


drive

by nonbinaryezrabridger



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Families of Choice, Gen, Queerplatonic Relationships, Team as Family, don’t copy to other sites, full tw in notes, slight whump, team sheppard as parents, torren has one mom and three dads and kanan is not one of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29414634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinaryezrabridger/pseuds/nonbinaryezrabridger
Summary: When the Daedalus is pulled into an alternate universe without warning, Sam and her crew discover a wraith plot that could destroy not only their universe, but also the fabric of space time itself. Sam tasks Team Sheppard with a mission that could save them all. Teyla and her team members are desperate to return to their universe, where Torren is waiting for his mother and her teammates who have become his adoptive parents.[aka this action plot is really just an excuse to write my vision of team sheppard living a happy domestic life while co parenting Torren]
Relationships: Ronon Dex & Teyla Emmagan & Rodney McKay & John Sheppard, Samantha "Sam" Carter & John Sheppard, Teyla Emmagan & Torren John Emmagan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2
Collections: Stargate Winter Fic Exchange 2020-21





	drive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zabbers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zabbers/gifts).



> Hello Zabbers, I hope you enjoy this massive fic despite it being so long. I got started writing and just couldn’t stop myself. I do have to express my appreciation: you gave me awesome prompts to work from, I loved your ideas. I tried to touch on almost everything you requested, so I hope this fic lives up to your expectations! 
> 
> This fic is set a few years after the canon end of stargate atlantis, although I have kept atlantis in the pegasus galaxy, and i’ve ignored woolsey's existence. I've kept sam as the commander of atlantis (as she deserved). However, with this time jump, Torren is no longer an infant. I don’t have an exact idea for how old he is because I don’t know how children’s ages work, but he’s old enough to walk, talk, and be a mostly functional human. I've also ignored Kanan, he remains Torren's biological father, but he is not relevant or active in this story. Rodney, John and Ronon are called Torren's "godfathers", but they are basically acting as Torren's fathers.
> 
> TW: canon typical violence and death (no major character death), including non graphic descriptions of gunshot wounds, slight blood, and non graphic second degree burns. Main tw is that there is a graphic scene with choking, it is not deadly but it is described in detail. If this is triggering to you I have marked the scene with choking with a line of stars (**********) before the choking begins and after it is over, so you can skip that scene if necessary. You will not miss any important plot points if you skip that scene. Last tw, here is a short scene with nonsexual nudity.
> 
> As a last note, the prompts from zabbers did not specify whether team sheppard's relationship should be romantic or platonic. I chose to write the teyla/john/ronon/rodney relationship as a nonsexual but still very much in love with each other relationship, which I think best fits as queerplatonic. If you want to imagine this fic as just romantic or just platonic you can, but I intended for the relationship to be read as queerplatonic. 
> 
> (please do not send me angry discourse over whether or not queerplatonic relationships are real or valid, I will ignore you if you do)

\--------------

Sam’s voice crackles through the comm, into John’s ear. He jumps, surprised, and almost hits his head on the bunk above him. So much for taking a nap. There’s a hint of tension in Sam’s voice, which means John quickly stops lamenting his lack of sleep and instead listens intently.

“John, our sensors are picking up an unidentified disturbance in nearby space. We need you on the bridge.”

John grunts an affirmative and throws his legs over the edge of the bed, standing as quickly as he can without having his vision black out. Then he heads out into the Daedalus's hallways. Unfortunately, the barracks he was in are about as far away from the bridge as you can get on the ship. He speeds up, not quite running, but into a jog. He doesn’t want to sprint, as he might run into someone coming around a corner, but he still wants to get there quickly.

He doesn’t make it to the bridge before he’s thrown off his feet, slamming into the wall next to him. The Daedalus bucks underneath him as his head smashes into the unforgiving metal of the wall. His vision flickers for a moment, and then fills with a strange blue light, undulating like sunlight on the bottom of a swimming pool. He shakes his head like a wet dog, trying to clear away the effect, but it persists. He clicks on his comm and asks:

“Is anyone else seeing this?”

Sam’s voice comes back, tenser than before:

“Yes. Everyone’s seeing it. Whatever the disturbance is, we’re in the middle of it.”

John grits his teeth against the pain in his head. Please don’t be a concussion, he thinks. Just as he begins to speak, the light disappears, as if it were never there. John groans and says to Sam:

“I’m coming up.”

Sam sounds hurried as she says.

“Good. Whatever that was, it’s no longer showing up on our sensors. Even worse, while we were inside it, every single sensor blacked out. We have no data to even begin to guess at what it was.”

John hisses as he jumps back up to a jog, even though it jars his aching head. He says:

“That doesn’t sound good.”

Sam sounds profoundly unhappy as she says:

“It isn’t.”

Before John can reply he hears her say:

“What?”

He asks:

“Sam?”

She replies:

“Sorry, John. Helmsman Smith has just informed me that the stars are wrong.”

John feels dread rising:

“What the hell does that mean?”

Sam sighs, loudly enough for the comn to pick up, and says:

“According to our star charts, we’re still in the Pegasus galaxy, but thousands of light years away from where we were before.”

John bits his lip, aware he’s out of his depth where science is concerned, but hazards a question:

“Is that physically possible?”

Sam’s voice is tightly controlled as she says:

“Not by any method we know of. Even at our engine’s highest output, we couldn’t have jumped that far. And even so, our engines weren't anywhere near their highest output when the disturbance hit us.”

John asks:

“If our engines didn’t move us, what did?”

There’s a long moment of silence before he hears Sam yell:

“Smith, what is that?”

John curses and speeds up. He can hear a hubbub over Sam’s comm, but nothing understandable. Finally Sam’s voice comes over the ship’s loudspeaker:

“Brace for impact. We have a debris field incoming!”

John skids to a stop inside a doorway and grabs onto either side. Space debris is nothing like earthquakes, but maybe it’ll help. Hell if he knows.

Then there’s a terrible clattering, like something clawing its way across the hull, and a couple loud thuds. The noise lasts for a minute or two, then fades away. John flicks on his comm and asks:

“Sam, status report?”

It takes a long moment, but then her voice comes through:

“John, we’ve got minor damage to weapons and the F-23 bay. Four sections have depressurized and are open to space. Damage control teams are working to seal them off. Casualties currently unknown.”

John finds he’s clenching his fists, fingernails digging into the softness of his palm. There are so many ways to die in space, and none of them pleasant. He forces himself to relax before asking:

“Is my path to the bridge clear?”

Sam relays the question and waits a moment for a reply from the bridge crew before saying:

“Yes. There are no depressurized sections in your way. Come on up.”

John runs, listening to the creaking of the ship and occasional shouted conversations down hallways he’s passing. He’s most of the way to the bridge when his comm crackles again. Sam says:

“John?”

John quickly replies:

“Yes, Sam?”

“Are you near section B3?”

John stops, looks around, trying to remember the layout of the ship. He’s a couple turns away from the section she’s asking about.

“Yes. What do you need?”

Sam hesitates before replying:

“Section B3 was one of the sections that was torn open to space. But something strange is happening. The section is repressurising, as if something is refilling it with livable atmosphere.”

John frows.

“And it’s not a damage control team?”

“No. They haven’t reached the front sections yet. I’d like you to go check it out. There’s a locker of space suits a hallway down. I’d recommend wearing one, just in case. Do you have a gun?”

John grins and jokes:

“Always.”

Sam chuckles and says:

“Report back as soon as you can, okay?”

John says yes faintly, more focused on finding the space suits. He finds the locker and pulls one out, looking it over. He hates these things. They’re a pain to put on, and then there’s always the imminent death waiting for you if the suit fails. Still, he begins to pull it on. Once he’s fully outfitted, he checks his pistol is loaded and takes a deep breath. Then he waddles---yes, the suit makes you waddle, there is truly no more dignified way to walk in such a suit---towards the mysterious section.

He ends up prying the door open, something must have damaged it’s wiring. He looks around the room, which appears to be a lab of sorts, but his attention is quickly grabbed by the massive tear in the hull of the Daedalus. He raises his arm to check the atmosphere in the room before reporting to Sam:

“Sam, the atmosphere is perfect for human life, but there is a huge hole in the wall. And there’s something...”

He trails off as he walks over to take a closer look. 

“There is something blocking off the hole. It looks like it’s attached to the hull.”

He peers inside the dark innards of the unknown thing, which is dimly lit with lights which shine out of computer banks. There’s a recognizable shape in the middle---it is unmistakably a chair. John stares in shock for a moment before he begins to report:

“Sam---”

He’s cut off as something smashes into his back, a strong blow somewhat cushioned by the suit. He staggers forwards before whirling around, raising his pistol. A second blow smashes through the plastic face plate of the suit and into his face. His nose lets out a distinct crunch as it breaks and begins to gush blood. He gets off one blind shot as he’s falling to the floor, but it misses his assailant. He looks up dazedly through the shards of the faceplate, and recognizes his own face. He grins down at himself, a rifle in his hands, which is used to club him unconscious. John Sheppard shakes out the hands holding the rifle and mutters:

“Sleep tight.”

\------------ 

John Sheppard steps onto the bridge, his rifle slung over his shoulder. The bridge is bustling, Sam sitting in her command seat and listening to reports thrown her way by the people around her. John saunters towards her. A person passing by does a double take as they pass him, but say nothing and continue on their way. He’s practically at Sam’s side before she notices him. She turns to him, looking hassled.

“John, what happened? You stopped responding, we heard a gunshot. Are you alright?”

John grins at her.

“I’m fine.”

Then he causally lifts his arm, levelling the rifle with Sam’s head. He drawls:

“But you might not be if you don’t do what I say.”

Sam’s eyes go wide for a second before they return to a steely glare, assessing the situation. She spreads her hands in an appeasing gesture as the whole bridge stutters to a stop. Ronon growls as he raises his gun to aim at Sheppard, but he looks between the two, unsure. Teyla steps up beside Ronon, a hand resting on her gun, taking a closer look at Sheppard. His hair is slightly longer and scruffier. There’s a healing cut on his cheek and his clothes are typical military wear, but with holes torn in them and dirt---as well another substance that could be blood---smeared across them. McKay is watching with a terrified expression, shrinking back against the bank of computers behind him, obviously concerned for Sam’s safety. Sam doesn’t look away from John despite the gun to her head and says:

“Are you John Sheppard?”

Sheppard smirks, his eyes roaming around the bridge, taking in all the guns that are now pointed at him. Despite that, he seems perfectly at ease. His tone stays friendly as he says:

“I am. Always have been, since my mother birthed me. So imagine my surprise when I board this ship and find myself wandering about.”

Gears are clearly turning in Sam’s head and she looks more confident as she says:

“We’ve crossed into alternate universes before. Met our doubles. There was a spatial disruption that must have brought us here.”

John shrugs, but the gun stays trained on Sam. He says:

“I’ll buy it.”

Sam nods slowly before asking:

“Is our John still alive?”

John smirks and says:

“Trussed up all pretty and thrown in a closet.”

Ronon snarls at that, but stays still. Teyla has walked around Sheppard, looking him over curiously. Sam says:

“Good. No one has to get hurt here. So tell us, what do you want?”

John replies:

“I want a puddlejumper fully stocked with as many guns as you can fit. Food too, but only stuff that’ll last.”

Sam says:

“That we can do. I’m going to call the fighter bay and tell them to pack the puddlejumper. Can I do that without getting shot?”

John grins widely, a vicious look that they are not used to receiving from the familiar face, but nods. Sam reaches up to her comm and changes channels before ordering:

“Load the puddlejumper. Only long lasting food and as many guns as you can fit.”

A faint affirmative comes through the comm and Sam looks back at John. She looks him over intently for a moment before saying:

“So. Any chance you’ll tell us about where we’ve landed?”

John twitches, a twinge of something pained crossing his face, before he’s back to a cold glare. 

“You tell me something first, then maybe I’ll share.”

Sam smiles slightly. She says:

“Sounds fair. What would you like to know?”

John doesn’t look away from her as he says:

“I recognize Teyla, but not the big guy. And you’re in command, but I have no idea who you are. Still, this is an Earth ship. So tell me, who are you? And which ship is this?”

Sam easily replies:

“I’m Sam Carter. I was part of the original stargate team, SG1. I took command of Atlantis after Dr. Weir. This ship is the Daedalus, the first Earth ship capable of making the trip between galaxies.”

Sheppard hums consideringly before he says:

“I heard of the Daedalus, never saw her.”

Then he falls silent. Sam gently urges:

“Your turn. How did you get on board the Daedalus without us knowing?”

John laughs, his voice taking on a sense of pride.

“That there is my own strategy. You were hit by a debris field, weren’t you?”

Sam nods and he continues:

“Well, my ship is well disguised as a piece of debris. I carry a full complement of trash to throw at my target, and then pretend to be part of the debris. Once I’m close enough I grip onto the hull and breach it. Then I release the atmosphere inside my ship into the target ship, making it safe for me to enter. Then I kill whoever I need to in order to get what I want. I’m one of this galaxy’s best pirates.”

He finishes his story with a proud grin. Sam looks impressed, but also somewhat sad. She asks:

“How did you become a pirate?”

John tuts and says:

“You first. Tell me who the big guy is, and what gun he’s holding.”

Ronon grits out, his voice sharp as a blade:

“I’m Ronon.”

John rolls his eyes and says:

“Great. That tells me less than nothing.”

Sam shoots Ronon a silencing look and says:

“He was a runner, from the planet Sateda. We took his wraith transmitter out and he joined us willingly. We don’t know what technology his gun is but it has a stun setting as well as an immensely damaging kill setting.”

John sounds genuinely pleased as he says:

“Pleased to meet you, Ronon.”

Ronon bites back another noise and just glares. John asks:

“Shall I answer your previous question? How I became a pirate?”

Sam smiles and says:

“Yes.”

John sneers, but the pain is back in his face, hiding behind his angry eyes.

“It’s a tragic story, I’ll tell you that. Sure you want to know?”

Sam looks like she’s bracing herself but she says without hesitation:

“Yes.”

Sheppard sighs and begins to recount:

“We came through the gate to Atlantis. Woke the wraith. Met the Athosians. We didn’t realize how much danger we were in. The wraith found us, brought the whole city down around our ears. But there was enough of the database left intact for them to find the location of Earth. The few people who escaped Atlantis were scattered, with no way to warn Earth or stop the wraith. When the wraith returned victorious, we didn’t know how they had won, but they had destroyed Earth. Feasted on our people and sucked the planet dry. They returned to Pegasus, intending to continue farming the people here. We struggled to survive, any way we could. We learned how to take out small wraith transport ships, not enough to damage the wraith fleet in any way that mattered, but enough for us to survive off. I don’t what happened to most of the people who escaped, for all we know, they starved or were eaten by wraith. My cell is only seven people. We are the last of Earth’s people, and of the Athosians.”

The bridge is filled with a heavy silence. Sam’s eyes are sad, though the rest of her face remains tightly controlled. She quietly says:

“I’m sorry.”

John smiles, but it looks more like a grimace. He changes the subject and says:

“Tell me, what happened to Dr. Weir?”

Sam sighs and says:

“It’s a bit complicated, but she was captured by an enemy called the replicators. We don’t know if she is still alive or not, but she’s been presumed dead. She sacrificed herself to save Atlantis, and the peoples of Pegasus as well.”

The smile that crosses John’s face then is filled with real fondness and he says:

“Of course she did.”

Sam smiles at that, then asks:

“Who are the members of your cell?”

John lists off:

“Teyla, Ford, Elizabeth, McKay, Zelenka, and Lorne.”

Sam nods and then John asks:

“How powerful is this ship?‘

Sam replies:

“It’s outfitted with a mixture of human and Asgard weapons. We could take on a single hive, but probably not much more than that.”

John grins as he says:

“Well then, guess I won’t bother stealing it. It wouldn’t do me much good.”

Sam laughs, but says cooly:

“You’ll be lucky to make it out of here with the puddlejumper and the supplies. I wouldn’t push it.”

There’s a moment of silence as they lock eyes. Neither of them look away. Then Sam says conversationally:

“Where is your cell hidden?”

John stays silent, just looking at Sam, before saying:

“You really think I’d tell you that?”

Sam smiles agreeably and says:

“We have no idea where we are in this universe, let alone what is different or what places still exist. Your choice.”

John watches Sam a moment longer before he says:

“They’re in an asteroid we found hollowed out. That’s our home base.”

Before they can continue, a voice comes through Sam’s comm. She listens for a moment, a finger to her ear and her head down, before looking back up John and saying:

“The puddlejumper is ready for you.”

John smirks and says:

“Been lovely doing business with you. Now, Sam, time to take a walk.”

Sam stands, looking calm. Rodney rushes to her side, stuttering:

“Sam, you can’t go with him!”

John sneers:

“You volunteering in her place, McKay?”

Rodney stutters nonsensically for a moment before John says:

“Forget it, McKay. I’m not taking anyone other than Sam.”

Sam steps down from the dias around her command chair, onto John’s level. She says evenly:

“I’ll go, but only if Teyla and Ronon can accompany me. I’m not going to leave myself alone with you, to be shot the moment I’m not useful anymore.”

John pauses, looking over Ronon.

“No. Teyla can come, but not Ronon.”

Ronon spits out what sounds like an unfamiliar curse word. Sam looks him over, waving a calming hand, and says:

“Deal.”

John nods and orders:

“Get walking, both in front of me.”

Teyla and Sam look at each other and begin to walk, neither of them looking as if anything is out of the ordinary. They walk along as if they’re strolling through a garden, despite the gun pointed at them. As they leave the bridge, they can hear Rodney starting to yell frantically, contrasting with Ronon’s deep rumble as he joins the angry shouting. John smiles at that and says:

“Same old McKay.”

Teyla smiles back and says:

“He is a constant in all universes.”

John laughs as they come around a corner. Teyla and Sam continue to the left, which prompts John to order:

“Go right.”

Sam and Teyla stop. Teyla tilts her head and Sam raises an eyebrow as she says:

“The fighter bay is this way.”

John seems unsurprised as he says:

“Oh I know.”

Sam and Teyla slowly turn the other way, but Teyla’s grip on her gun gets a bit tighter. She asks calmly:

“Where are we going?”

“To get a little extra insurance out of the closet. Then you’ll lead me to the bay and I’ll release both of you and my alternate self.”

Teyla and Sam share a look. John jabs the rifle at them for emphasis as he says:

“Or I could shoot one of you here to make a point, and keep the other as a hostage.”

They continue walking and Teyla loosens her grip on the gun. John grins and says:

“Good.”

They make their way to the closet, which is a few feet from section B3, where the alternate John’s ship is still attached. Sam asks as they pass the lab:

“What about your ship?”

John doesn’t look back as he says:

“She’s served me well, but the puddlejumper is a definite upgrade. How about you keep her as a souvenir? ”

Sam’s voice is heavy with sarcasm as she says:

“How kind of you.”

John laughs and says boisterously: 

“I can see why they made you Elizabeth’s replacement. You’re fearless.”

Sam snips back:

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

John’s laughter trails off as they reach the closet. He keys the door open and they can see their John, sprawled out unconscious. He’s gagged with a dirty piece of fabric and there is rope tied around his wrists. Alternate John steps forward and says:

“Guess I’ll have to drag him. Sorry about the bumpy ride, myself.”

As he leans down to hook a hand into the space suit John is still wearing, there’s a flash of movement. Their John slams both his feet into his alternate’s knee and the alternate goes down. The rifle fires, barely missing Sam and blowing a hole in the wall behind her. Before the alternate can adjust his aim or stop his fall, Teyla jumps on the opportunity their John has given them and slams the butt of her gun into the alternate’s head. He goes limp, the rifle clattering out of his hand and hitting the decking. Their John pants as he stands up straight, beginning to loosen the rope around his wrists as he snarks:

“This asshole looks strangely familiar.”

Teyla laughs as she checks the alternate John’s pulse. Sam picks up the rifle and chuckles as she says:

“Your second time meeting yourself didn’t go as well as the first time.”

John groans and says:

“Well, I’ve got to run out of luck sometimes.”

Teyla stands from her crouch and reports:

“He seems alright, although I would bet he has a head wound, perhaps a concussion.”

John winces and says:

“Yeah, I’d check me for one as well. Lost a fight with a wall when the ship went through the disturbance.”

Sam turns the rifle around and trains it on alternate John, but she seems more concerned with their John as she asks:

“Are you alright, John?”

Teyla steps up to John and presses a hand to his jaw, tilting his head to look at his bloodied nose, which has mostly stopped bleeding by now. John hisses in pain and says:

“Well, other than my head and the obvious broken nose, I’m fine. Although my feet did fall asleep while I was trying to get the ropes off my ankles.”

Teyla laughs and lets go of him, patting him on the shoulder.

“We will get you both to sickbay. Your alternate will find himself restrained upon his waking. Perhaps you would like to talk with him once he wakes.”

John looks down at his alternate and sighs.

“Maybe. You guys should fill me in on what I missed.”

Sam nods and says:

“Teyla, take our John to sickbay. I’ll keep an eye on the alternate until I can get someone to move him. And I’ll call Rodney before he worries himself sick.”

John starts off down the hall, somewhat unsteadily, Teyla at his side. He yells back over his shoulder:

“Good plan.”

Sam smiles to herself for a moment before returning to seriousness. She’s still trapped in an alternate universe with no idea how to get back, and the whole crew is depending on her. She sighs and clicks on her comm to call Rodney.

\-----------

Ronon sits in the Daedalus’s infirmary, which is smaller than Atlantis’s, but still capable of treating most injuries. It’s currently empty except for Ronon, the two Johns, and a nurse whose name Ronon doesn’t know. There are two guards outside the door, stationed there in the unlikely event the alternate John somehow breaks free of the tough fabric straps tying him to the infirmary bed. Teyla had wanted to remain with John, but had decided to help Sam examine the pirate ship. Both Teyla and Rodney are sticking close to Sam, Rodney partially out of necessity, but also simply because they’re nervous after having a gun held to her head. Sam has no doubt noticed their clinginess but she tactfully avoids mentioning it, despite being quite sure she can handle herself. They occasionally call Ronon, keeping him updated, but they stay focused on tearing the pirate ship apart for anything useful.

Ronon knows they’re hoping to find a location where they can leave the alternate John where he won’t be killed by wraith and can be found by his cell. They’re not very hopeful though, as John no doubt has a program that protects his ship’s data from being found by potential enemies. Ronon is personally glad he doesn’t have to listen to Rodney narrate their effort with a heavy dose of complaining and cursing. Sam and Teyla are much better at tuning him out than Ronon is. So instead, Ronon is sitting and watching their John get his nose treated. The nurse has been carefully explaining what he’s doing to both John and Ronon as he works on the nose. Evidently, despite the amount of blood, the break isn’t too serious. John’s nose hasn’t gone crooked, so as far as Ronon can tell it’s not too bad. The nurse had checked and found it was a fracture rather than a break, and had handed him an ice pack to take the swelling down. John is holding it to his nose carefully, trying not to irritate it further. 

Ronon has just finished telling him what they learned from the alternate John when, speak of the devil, the pirate wakes. He looks around groggily before, upon seeing Ronon, he jolts up. He doesn’t get far, the restraints slamming him to a stop. He strains against them for a moment before groaning loudly and letting himself slump back against the bed. Then he looks Ronon over with sly eyes, noting the gun at his waist. He doesn’t look at the other John in the room. He says surprisingly cheerfully:

“Good to see you again, Ronon.”

Ronon glares, still pissed that he had damaged their John, and snarls back:

“Can’t say the same.”

The nurse cuts cleanly through their posturing and bustles up to the alternate John. He speaks quickly and business-like, not looking at the alternate as he writes something on a clipboard.

“You have a concussion. It doesn’t seem to be serious, and you should be fine as long as you take it easy. So no strenuous activity, including attempting to fight your way out of here.”

Pirate John laughs at that and jokes:

“Well, there goes my plan.”

The nurse finally looks up, leveling a no nonsense glare at him.

“You may have other symptoms begin to appear, so tell me if anything changes.” 

The nurse turns away, hanging the clipboard on the end of pirate John’s bed, and returns to his desk, where he re-immerses himself in something on the computer. Ronon returns to glaring at Pirate John, who grins back. There’s a long moment of silence before their John speaks up:

“I got a concussion too. We’re twins!”

Pirate John finally looks at his alternate, who is looking at him in a way that is entirely too friendly for someone who just got his nose broken by him, and sighs.

“I already feel sick enough without hearing that.”

John snorts, wiggling his face to feel if his nose still hurts, and wincing when it does. He quickly reapplies the ice pack and says:

“I don’t know, I think this is pretty cool. Other than the part where you beat me up.”

Pirate John casually says:

“I’d prefer if we went back to that.”

Ronon is up then, raising his gun and pointing it at pirate John without hesitation. Pirate John doesn’t seem impressed. John sighs and says:

“Ronon, buddy, that gun is on stun, right.”

Ronon grunts:

“For now. If he doesn't shut up I’ll knock him back into unconsciousness.”

Pirate John sneers, somehow getting even less impressed. John says:

“Let him be, Ronon. He’d probably prefer unconsciousness to speaking with me. Think of it as a kind of torture, right?”

Ronon considers, before holstering the gun and sitting back down. He is still itching for an excuse to shoot him, but he agrees with John. This is probably better.

Pirate John groans again and struggles against the restraints once more before relaxing again. He’s making no progress and he knows it. He returns to looking at John and says:

“I assume I’m not dead for a reason.”

John grins at getting his alternate to speak to him. He says:

“Well, we are the good guys, so we usually try not to kill people who aren’t wraith, or otherwise enemies.”

Pirate John snarls:

“Sounds like you’re soft.”

John digests that, looking down before looking back up, saying softly and sadly:

“Or maybe we’re just lucky enough to still have the choice to be kinder. ”

That makes pirate John look like someone just landed a punch on his stomach. He looks shocked, then pained, and then turns his head away to hide until he’s pulled the cold mask back over his face. He snaps:

“I don’t need your pity.”

The pair lock eyes and begin, what is essentially, a staring contest. Ronon interrupts the silent staring by saying:

“It isn’t pity. They genuinely want to help where they can. I didn’t trust them at first, but they helped me escape the wraith and offered me a home on Atlantis. They’ve still made hard decisions, and bad ones, but they try their best. I understand being placed in a situation where you have no choice but to become cold and heartless. Survival requires that of you. But there are still chances to be kind. You don’t have to lose yourself, you can still retain your humanity.”

Both the Johns stop staring at each other and stare at Ronon instead.

Pirate John is the first to speak:

“You sound like Elizabeth.”

Ronon is silent for a long moment, his face emotionless. Then, slowly, he smiles a small smile. He says:

“Thank you.”

Pirate John looks further shocked by Ronon’s authenticity. John is smiling at Ronon, looking proud. As Pirate John tries to recollect himself, John leans towards him and says:

“Ronon’s usually a man of few words. So when he speaks that much, it’s worth your while to listen.”

Pirate John looks down, tapping his fingers in a quick, nervous burst of energy. He’s not able to do much more than that with the restraints holding him down. Finally he looks up and says haltingly:

“I...would have liked to have met you. My you, I mean. I think we could have been friends.”

Ronon shifts, stretching his legs out, his posture changing into a more relaxed pose. He says:

“You might still have a chance to.”

Pirate John’s forehead crinkles as he frowns and he looks confused.

“What do you mean?”

Ronon shrugs.

“We’re going to do our best to return you to your cell.”

John adds:

“It would help if you could tell us where to drop you off. Rodney is tearing his hair out trying to break into your ship’s database.”

Pirate John is wide eyed.

“What?”

Ronon just grins at him. John takes pity on his alternate self and says:

“I thought we already established we’re not going to kill you.”

Pirate John replies:

“Well, no offense, but that sounded like bullshit. Most people aren’t feeling very merciful after getting their nose broken, being tied up, and shoved in a closet. Plus the whole threatening to shoot your commanding officer and one of your close friends.”

John shrugs.

“I mean, you can continue to believe we’re going to kill you, and I can’t fully disprove it until we actually let you go, but we are telling the truth.”

Pirate John stares at the ceiling and says:

“I need to think.”

John cheerfully says:

“Take your time!”

He then focuses on calling the nurse over and attempting to convince him he should be allowed to leave the infirmary. Ronon settles down to watch the battles of wills, but guessing from the nurse’s unimpressed look, he’s pretty sure John is going to lose.

\------------

By the time Sam comes sweeping through the infirmary doors, both Ronon and Pirate John have fallen asleep. Ronon had watched John’s unsuccessful attempts to convince the nurse to free him until the nurse simply began to ignore John. After that, Ronon had given up his chair and claimed an uninhabited bed before falling asleep almost instantly. It’s an old runner skill, falling asleep as quickly as possible while also waking at the slightest hint of danger. Pirate John, being strapped down, had nothing to do but join him in sleep. John is reading a long out of date gossip magazine and pretending like he isn’t pouting at being kept here.

Sam enters, flanked by Teyla and Rodney, confident like a queen followed by her retainers. As if having a gun to her head an hour ago had no effect on her. She knows she’s in control here, and she doesn't expect that to change anytime soon. She is every inch a commander. John quickly drops the magazine at his bedside and straightens his spine in an instinctive reaction. He doesn’t react that way to all commanders; he’s well known for his insubordination. But Sam has earned his trust, so he honors her trust in him.

Sam notes his attention with a smile and steps up to his bed. John relaxes, knowing she doesn’t expect him to remain tense, and smiles back at her. She asks softly:

“How are you?”

He grins wider; he knows her concern is sincere. She is loyal to her people to a fault, like Elizabeth before her. However, her kindness does not betray any weakness. He knows not to mess with her. He would, in the right situation, betray her trust. But only because he would never listen to any commander above his own sense of right and wrong. That’s what lead him to shoot Colonel Sumner, to put on a isolation suit and break quarantine against Elizabeth’s order, and fly suicide missions without flinching. He would betray Sam, but that doesn’t mean he’s not loyal to her. He would only betray her if it was necessary to protect people: whether his team, his expedition, his planet, or the peoples of pegasus. He trusts her not to put him in that position, because he knows she wants the same thing he does: to save as many lives as possible. So he simply replies:

“Good.”

The nurse who has been watching the commanding officer since she entered, raises his voice to say:

“That is not correct. He has been vomiting, yet he claims he should be allowed back on duty.”

Sam turns to look at the nurse, who looks annoyed, and she laughs.

“I’d be more worried if he didn’t try to escape an infirmary bed. Then we would really know something is wrong.”

The nurse huffs, glaring for a moment, before returning to the paperwork on his desk and ignoring the rest of the conversation. John snickers for a moment before returning his attention to Sam. He asks:

“So what can we do for you?”

Sam looks over at the bed where pirate John is sleeping uneasily. Even Ronon looks peaceful in his sleep, but not the alternate John. His forehead is wrinkled and his mouth turns down at the edges. He twitches like a dog dreaming about squirrels, though there is the distinct feeling that his dreams aren’t that pleasant. Sam continues to keep her voice down, trying not to wake either of the sleeping men yet:

“We came to speak to him.”

John nods, as he expected, he wasn’t the main draw in this room. He says:

“He actually spoke with Ronon, and it was a somewhat friendly conversation on both sides. He’s been through alot, he still thinks we’re going to kill him.”

Sam’s mouth slants in an unhappy line and she sighs.

“Well, that’s only going to make it harder to return him to the safety of his cell. But we can only do so much to change his mind.”

John shrugs and says:

“Maybe you’ll have better luck convincing him than I did. I doubt it though.”

Sam smiles and pats John’s leg through the infirmary blanket that’s pulled up to his waist.

“I’ll do my best.”

John looks behind her as she moves over to pirate John’s bed. He’s checking in on Teyla and Rodney. Teyla gives him a smile and a nod. Rodney doesn’t even notice John looking at him, instead focused on typing on a laptop computer and muttering to himself. That gives John the impression they may have found something, but he doesn’t interrupt Sam to ask. He figures he’ll hear about it when pirate John does.

Sam pulls a chair up to pirate John’s bed and takes a seat, settling herself for a moment before reaching out to gently shake him. She’s barely touched him when he startles awake, his lunge upward abruptly aborted by the restraints holding him down. He strains against them for a moment, looking around wildly, before noticing Sam. Then he goes limp against the bed, though he looks no less tense, more like he’s saving his energy for later. He looks at Sam and any friendliness John and Ronon had cultivated seems to be gone. He glares at her for a moment before he says:

“What do you want from me?”

“I’m not going to bother asking you for the location of your base. If I were you, I wouldn’t give it to me either. But is there anywhere safe we can release you, a planet with natives who are allies, or a place your people visit often?”

John smiles unhappily. 

“Allies? With the Athosians dead along with Atlantis, we had a hard time talking with any natives. And we had nothing to trade but the clothes on our backs and our guns, which made it practically impossible. Then the wraith placed the final nail in the coffin: they targeted any planets that harbored us. They made sure to spread the word that anyone who helped us would face their wrath. After that we had to steal to even survive.” 

Sam doesn’t let herself look shaken by their struggle, but Teyla bows her head and Rodney abruptly stops working, twitching and looking between John and his alternate. Sam tries again:

“If you don’t have allies, do you at least have a safe house? Somewhere you could hide, message your people?”

John stares at her for a long moment. Then he sneers:

“And what is to stop you from lying in wait for them when they come to get me? You could hide this ship behind the planet or simply send out an invisible puddle jumper. They would never see you coming.”

Sam looks down, a hint of frustration showing through. She collects herself for a moment before she looks back up and says:

“We’re never going to get anywhere if you don’t trust us even a little bit. Doesn’t the fact we’re your alternates help at all?”

John laughs:

“You obviously don’t understand how much I hate myself. I’ve found out I would do horrible things to save my people, and I know any of my alternate selves have the same potential for violence that I do.”

Sam sits back, digesting that. She looks at the alternate John, looking like she’s trying to decide to keep fighting this losing war or not. Finally she leans forwards and says:

“I have no way to build trust between us, so I’ll stop trying. But I wanted to thank you.”

Pirate John is trying very hard not to let his confusion show, but his silence is telling. Sam lets him stew for a moment before continuing:

“While we were digging around in your ship’s databanks, we were unable to find what we were looking for. But luckily for us, Rodney stumbled across something else, something possibly more useful. When the disturbance hit us, it blacked out every single one of our sensors. Your ship, however, was far enough away that your sensors were unaffected. You have a complete sensor record of the disturbance in your data banks. It was not as protected as your other information and Rodney was able to extract a copy. Thanks to you, we now have the data we need to begin studying the disturbance. If you hadn’t boarded our ship, we would have no data and no way to even begin getting home. So, in light of you saving every single one of my crew, including me, I think I’ll forgive you for holding a gun on me.”

John looks at Rodney for confirmation, and Rodney grins widely and gives him a thumbs up. Having finished her conversation with the alternate John, Sam stands and begins to put the chair back on the far side of the room. She gives both John and the nurse a nod before beginning to leave the infirmary, Rodney and Teyla falling back in step with her. Before they can make it through the door, pirate John raises his voice and says:

“I hope you make it home. I wouldn’t wish this universe on anyone, even myself.”

Sam turns back to look at him, silent for a moment before slowly smiling. She nods to him as well before turning and leaving. John finds himself once again left out of the action. He groans and looks over at Ronon, who never even woke up. He quickly decides on what to do and grabs the gossip magazine, throwing it at Ronon’s head. He knows the instant he tried to get up and out of his bed, the nurse would be on him, and he’s been chewed out enough today. Pirate John watches the magazine fly across the room, pages fluttering, with vague interest. Despite being ill suited to being an aerodynamic projectile, the magazine makes it across the distance between beds and whacks Ronon in the face. 

Ronon jumps to his feet almost instantly, a knife appearing in his hand, ready to be used. John waves his arms to get his attention and yells:

“Woah there big guy!”

Ronon looks at John, then at his alternate, visibly checking the pirate is still tied down. Satisfied, the knife vanishes again and he slouches, losing his battle readiness.

He looks slightly irritated as he asks John:

“What?”

John fills him in as quickly as possible:

“Important news: they got sensor data of the disturbance from the pirate ship. I’m stuck in here, so go bother Rodney for me, would you? Make him tell you what they’re doing and keep me updated.”

Ronon fiddles with the holster on his hip as he says:

“Sounds boring.”

John cajoles:

“Come on, you’d be just as worried if you were stuck in this bed.”

Ronon looks over before saying without a hint of humor in his voice:

“You could say please.”

John glares and replies:

“Get going, would you?”

Ronon breaks, his emotionless facade falling, and laughs heartily. As he heads for the door he throws back over his shoulder:

“That didn’t sound like a please.”

John grumbles to himself as the door closes. He turns to look at pirate John, the only person left to talk to without getting himself scolded, and says:

“I should have thrown something heavier at him.”

Pirate John looks unamused. He pointedly turns his head to the side, which is about as much movement as he can make with the restraints on, and pays no attention to John. John rolls his eyes, muttering:

“Tough crowd.”

And he is left to entertain himself until Ronon reports back.

\----------------------

Ronon saunters into the room where Sam and Rodney are working, having called the bridge to ask where they were holed up. They are in the room that, when the Daedalus was new, housed the accompanying asgard crew member who oversaw the use of the asgard technology. It has large databanks that can connect to their laptops, perfect for analyzing their data, which is most likely why they picked it. When Ronon enters, Sam and Rodney are hunched over their computers, laser focused on their work. Teyla leans against one of the computer banks, watching over them. Only Teyla looks up at Ronon as he steps inside; Sam and Rodney don’t even seem to notice he’s joined them. This is not uncommon; both Teyla and Ronon are used to being ignored as the two scientists work. Teyla is flipping a small smooth stone in her hand as she watches them, one of her rarely seen nervous habits.

As Ronon steps up to her side, she stops the movement of the stone, letting it rest in her palm. She smiles up at him and says:

“Welcome.”

Ronon smiles back and complains:

“Looks about as exciting as I expected in here.”

Teyla doesn’t laugh, but can see the humor in the way her eyes crinkle at the corners, a whisper of small wrinkles forming there. He feels it only makes her more beautiful. She asks:

“You must have a reason for being here, if you find it as boring as you say.”

Ronon doesn’t bring up the fact that Teyla finds the typing away at computers as uninteresting as he does. He knows why she is here; as he noticed before, she is looking out for their recently threatened commander. Ronon completely understands that impulse. He is not as close with Sam as some are, but he still feels a need to protect her. Partially because of his training on Sateda, so long ago, but also because she is a kind, caring commander. He believes they got lucky with her; they could have had a much worse person assigned to lead them. He has served under bad commanders before and he has no wish to do so again. Teyla waits patiently as he gets lost in his thoughts, losing his focus on answering her. Sateda is an easy way for him to get distracted. The world is full of terrible things, enough to drag him down if he thinks about them, but Sateda’s destruction was personal. Only once Teyla begins tossing the stone up again does he snap out of it. 

He gives her an apologetic smile and explains:

“John’s restless and out of the loop. He wants me to tell him what’s happening. Although right now, it looks like not much.”

That manages to snap Rodney out of his haze of work. He has a magical ability to ignore everything he hears except something that he sees as criticism. He whirls around and snaps:

“Do you understand how much data is here? We have no idea what caused the disturbance, meaning we have to check every single possibility, from sun spots to a magical fairy flying through space and sprinkling pixie dust.”

Ronon may not know exactly what pixie dust is, but Rodney’s tone is perfectly clear. Ronon plays dumb often---it makes people underestimate him, which is how he likes it---but even his dumbest facade can read Rodney’s scathing sarcasm. The man is not subtle. Ronon is unbothered by Rodney’s caustic snarl. If you work with Rodney for any amount of time longer than a couple hours, you will get snapped at. Ronon is a veteran of ignoring his vitriol. So he simply stares at Rodney and says:

“Sounds like you better get back to it.” 

Rodney huffs, rolling his eyes with as much scorn as he can manage, and turns back to the computer. Ronon returns his attention to Teyla, who is rubbing her thumb over the smooth worry stone in a calming motion. She hides it well, but he can tell she’s nervous. Despite this being their second time in an alternate universe, it doesn’t feel any easier than the first time. He feels the tension running through him as well, making the muscles in the back of his shoulders tense. He rolls his shoulders out, trying to convince the angry muscles to loosen. Then he asks Teyla:

“You got a whetstone?”

Teyla, coming from Athosian culture, is fortunate enough to have escaped the terran habit of not allowing women to have pockets in their clothing. She always has a few small pockets at least, tucking away important things like a photo of Torren, a string of ceremonial Athosan beads, or a small leather wrapped packet of herbs used to dull pain. She also has sheaths for small knives built into her clothing, often hand sewn by her. When she chooses to wear the terran military vest, she carries much more in its pockets, such as ration bars, first aid supplies, and tissues. John has joked that her preparedness reminds him of women on earth who carry purses that weigh ten pounds and have everything inside but the kitchen sink. Though, when he sneezes in some pollen laded alien forest, he’s grateful for the fact that she’s carrying tissues.

Teyla nods to Ronon, curling her fingers around the worry stone she’s already holding to make sure she doesn’t drop it as she digs around in her pants pocket. She pulls out a small whetstone, smiling victoriously, and hands it over. Ronon thanks her and sits down on the deck, pulling out the countless small knives on his person and sharpening them with great care. He had learned early on as a runner that if you don’t keep your knives clean and sharp, they will fail you when you need them most. As he presses the stone to the first blade, it makes a raspy hiss, which makes Rodney jump. Rodney doesn’t take his eyes away from his computer despite his surprise, and he quickly adjusts to the sound. Ronon is honestly surprised he doesn’t complain about it. Rodney will usually take any opportunity to complain, no matter how small. In fact, his silence is sort of scary; if he’s this focused it could be because they’re in more danger than Ronon realized.

Ronon shakes that thought off and continues working on his knives, though he does pause for a moment to call John on the comm and report:

“They’re analyzing the data. Nothing new yet.”

John thanks him, sounding very sincere. Ronon suspects he’s getting desperate for anything to do but stare at the infirmary ceiling. If gets much more desperate, he may even pick another fight with the nurse. He would do it knowing he’s going to lose, but he’s probably that bored out of his mind. Ronon is suddenly glad that he’s down here and not in the infirmary watching the explosion happen. He clicks his comm off for the moment and gets to work on one of his trickiest knives, which has a curved blade and a hook on the tip. Not a very useful knife, but the culture he had bought it from considered it good luck. At the time, Ronon had needed all the luck he could get. Also, it’s just a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. Even as a runner, reduced to survival and not much else, he had enjoyed beauty. He personally feels that without a sense of beauty, without creating something, one cannot be truly human. He often wonders if wraith are capable of aesthetic appreciation. He would like to believe they aren’t, because that would distance them further from humanity. But the fact that they have tattoos and different hairstyles implies that they take the time to distinguish themselves from each other. 

As he ponders that, time passes slowly, without even a single word from the scientists. Ronon is actually running out of knives when Teyla speaks up, her voice quiet but tense:

“I feel the need to ask your opinions. Does it not bother you, hearing what our alternate selves have suffered?”

The clicking of laptop mice stops for a moment, Sam and Rodney looking at Teyla. They turn back to their computers quickly, but they wanted Teyla to know that she has their attention as well. After a long moment of silence, Sam says:

“That’s a hard question, Teyla.”

Ronon slips his last knife back into its sheath on his thigh and shrugs, saying:

“It didn’t happen to us, so as far as I’m concerned it didn’t happen.”

Teyla looks down at her hands. She’s put away the worry stone and is instead fiddling with her fingers. Her hands are well kept. The nails are cut short and the skin is lotioned enough that it isn’t dry, but not enough to cover the calluses on her palms from years of farming and fighting . She doesn’t look up as she says:

“We have had our share of terrible things happen to us. My people are halved in number, the father of my child tortured and transformed by Michael. But it still shakes me to know that we could have lost more than we have. We could have lost everything.”

Rodney doesn’t look up from his computer, but he breathes in deep, as if collecting himself. Then he adds his opinion:

“I think of it this way. There are countless alternate universes out there, some very similar to our universe, some completely different. These people have suffered no doubt, but at least they still have each other. We could have stumbled into a universe that’s even worse, one that’s not a parallel universe. We could never have met, or you could have been wraith worshippers and helped the wraith capture and feed on us, or maybe you could even be wraith. These people are still like us in many ways. Even if we lost Atlantis and had to become pirates to survive, at least these people still love each other. They still have the friendships that make us who we are.”

Rodney finishes talking and, as if he hadn’t just said something incredibly profound, looks at Sam and asks:

“Does anyone have a ration bar? All this stress makes me hungry.”

There’s silence, and that prompts him to turn towards Teyla and Ronon. As he does so, he abruptly notices that Teyla is curled in on herself. Her head is bowed and hidden behind the hair falling into her face. Her shoulders are shaking slightly as if she’s starting to cry. Rodney’s eyes go wide and he stumbles to his feet, walking a step or two closer to Teyla before stopping, looking unsure. He turns to Sam and Ronon for help, but neither of them do more than look back at him. He looks helpless for a moment before he stutters:

“Shit, Teyla, I’m sorry!”

Teyla doesn’t respond immediately, leaving Rodney to wring his hands nervously. Finally, Teyla looks up, brushing the hair back from her face. Her eyes are wet with tears, but her cheeks are dry; she is trying hard to not let the tears fall. She says softly:

“Do not worry, Rodney. I am simply happy, and I am once again glad to have you as one of the godfathers of my son.”

Rodney looks like he’s just had a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. He’s stock still other than his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish, totally shocked. He stays like that for a moment before he abruptly breaks the stillness. He ducks his head, looking down with embarrassment, and shuffles back to his station. He has to swipe at the computer’s keypad to wake it from its sleep before he dives back into his work, typing away furiously. Despite Rodeny’s lack of reply to her heartfelt declaration, Teyla understands that he is hiding because he is too touched to respond. She is content to leave him be. Ronon, however, gets up and steps over to Rodney. He reaches over the computer bank and ruffles Rodney’s hair, which he knows full well Rodney hates. Rodney pulls away from his hand and glares at Ronon, still holding the laptop. Ronon leans in towards Rodney and jokes:

“I think we all know I’m the best godfather though.”

Teyla laughs at that, ignoring Rodney’s disgruntled look, and teases:

“I believe John would contest that claim, after all, he was the one that showed Torren football.”

Rodney is still working but he grumbles:

“Yeah, yeah. You and John may be the fun godfathers, but when Torren needs help on his homework, who does he turn to?”

Rodney looks up at Ronon before jabbing a thumb towards himself and saying:

“That’s right, this guy.”

Teyla smiles brightly, obviously enjoying the back and forth, but interrupts their verbal wrestling:

“Now, now, boys. It is not a contest.”

Rodney mutters:

“That’s what you think. I’m pretty sure John had a ‘best godfather’ trophy made for himself.”

Ronon laughs and adds:

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Ronon returns to his seat on the decking and Rodney spins his chair back around to face the computer. However, the two men continue to argue in a friendly squabble, Sam and Teyla smiling fondly at them as they do so. Ronon’s presence is no doubt a distraction for Rodney, but Sam is going to consider it a morale booster and let it go.

\---------------

Sam slumps over, very slowly, and lets her head come to rest on the cool metal of the computer bank in front of her. It’s not very professional, but with only Rodney in the room with her, she feels her secret is pretty safe. Her collapse brings her eyes exactly to the right level to read the data bank’s built in clock, with stares at her accusingly. The green lit panel makes no mistake; it’s two in the morning. Rodney evidently hasn’t noticed that she’s stopped working, he’s so focused on his own work. The night shift is, as requested, going about their jobs without interrupting the pair of scientists. It’s just her, Rodney, and the inescapable fact that they’re not getting any closer to figuring out what’s going on. 

She groans and turns her aching head, but doesn’t lift her forehead away from the databank’s surface. She’s not leaving the comforting coolness of the metal behind. Once she’s turned enough that she’s got Rodney in her line of sight, she raises her voice to say: 

“Rodney, we’re not getting anywhere.”

Rodney doesn’t turn away from his screen, his typing only slowed by raising yet another cup of coffee to his mouth. He slurps down what must now be a cold mouthful of liquid before shaking his head and insisting:

“Don’t you say it.”

Sam rolls her eyes and throws the pencil in her hand at Rodney. It hits him in the shoulder but he is completely unphased. He doesn’t even flinch. Sam groans louder before prying herself out of her chair and lunging across the short distance to Rodney’s side of the room. Before he can react, she grabs the back of his chair and spins him around, forcibly removing him from his computer and making him look at her. Then she carefully enunciates:

“We’re. Stuck.”

Rodney doesn’t meet her eyes, trying to turn away as he waggles a finger and says:

“No, no, that’s quitter talk—-“

Sam, quickly losing what little patience remains in her now sleep deprived body, spins him in a circle before pulling him back to face her. He wobbles with vertigo, listing to the side, and finally makes the mistake of meeting her eyes. She stares him down and says: 

“Not admitting it doesn’t make it any less true. We’re stuck, through and through.” 

Rodney finally gives in, groaning as he grabs his coffee mug and throws back the dregs at the bottom of the cup. He slams the now empty cup down and flops back in the chair before agreeing:

“Okay, fine. We’re stuck.”

Sam releases her grip on his chair and grins victoriously. Rodney waves a hand at her dismissively and whines:

“Yes, yes, you’re always right. The real question is how do we get unstuck?”

Sam straightens up fully and crosses her arms over her chest as she says:

“Easy. We go to bed, get some sleep, and start fresh tomorrow morning.”

That gets Rodney’s attention; he jumps to his feet, his eyes wild, and yells:

“No! We can’t stop!”

Sam sighs; she knows that when he’s in his workaholic mode, it’s nigh impossible to convince him to stop working. She asks:

“Why not? Look, Teyla and Ronon are sleeping in the infirmary with John. I know you heard them offer for you to join them when we were done here. Why not go curl up in a soft, warm bed with your friends?”

Rodney glares and mirrors her posture, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. He says:

“Okay, first of all, playing the friends card is a low blow. Second of all, we’re so close, I can feel it! It’s like it’s right there, just inches away!”

Sam say incredulously:

“Are you actually being the positive one for once? Because I don’t feel close to an answer at all.”

Rodney uncrosses his arms arms and gestures wildly as he pleads:

“Come on, let’s just go through what we know one more time. Then I will go to bed, I promise.”

Sam sighs, raising a hand to rub at her forehead, where the headache is the worst. But she agrees:

“Deal.”

Rodney practically squeals with excitement. He waves her over to his chair, encouraging her to take a seat as he speaks rapidly:

“Okay, so we found out it’s a new wraith drive, something that will help them move through space much quicker than their current technology. Easier to cross the universe and check in on all the planets that support the people that are their food source. Most likely what we stumbled into was a prototype test, because there was only one hive ship participating. But we’ve looked at basically every potential cause created by the drive in this universe--- ”

Sam, whose eyelids had been falling shut as she struggled to listen, suddenly sits up straight. She grabs at Rodney’s arm, her nails digging into the fabric of his uniform jacket as she tugs at it to get his attention, and practically shouts:

“Rodney, say that again?”

Rodney looks confused, and perhaps a bit miffed at having his analysis interrupted, but he repeats:

“We’ve looked at basically every potential cause created by the drive in this universe?”

Sam suddenly turns her back on him and begins typing furiously at the computer he had been using. Realizing that she might be onto something, Rodney comes up behind her to stare over her shoulder at the computer screen. He asks:

“What is it?”

The computer beeps a cheery affirmative and Sam whirls back around to face Rodney. She jumps up and out of the chair before grabbing Rodney by his upper arms. Rodeny has a moment to look shocked and say:

“Wha--”

Sam pulls him into an ecstatic hug. He is too surprised to hug back, making it a very one sided hug. When Sam pulls away she laughs at his expression, which is moving from shocked to confused. She lets go of him and says:

“You’re a genius!”

Rodney looks flattered, but still has no idea what’s happening. He says:

“Well, yes, but I don’t believe I’ve done anything yet today to deserve that title.” 

Sam pushes him down into the chair, reversing their earlier position, and begins to explain:

“We’ve checked and double checked everything and found nothing that could have caused the disturbance. At least, in this universe.”

A lightbulb clicks on over Rodney’s head, making Sam grin as she continues: 

“I checked the sensor records of the space around us in our universe, before we were pulled through the disturbance. Sure enough there was a comet passing by. We weren’t actively scanning it because we didn’t think it was important. But our passive sensor sweeps did record some data on the comet, including that it was emitting radiation.”

Rodney nods rapidly as he catches up on her line of thought and joins in:

“The rip in time wasn’t just caused by the wraith drive, it was the combination of both the drive and the comet’s radiation.”

Sam claps her hands excitedly, cheering:

“Exactly!”

Rodney smiles up at her and says:

“That was brilliant, Sam. Are you keeping a tally of how often your ideas save us from a horrible death?”

Sam laughs.

“I’d rather not think about our close calls.”

Rodney joins her in laughing as he checks the analysis of the radiation on the computer screen. He’s distracted enough that he doesn’t see Sam’s face fall, the celebratory excitement coming to an abrupt stop as a thought strikes her. She steps forward to lean against the databank beside her, her exhaustion showing through in her body language. She whispers:

“Shit.”

Rodney hears her and turns, his concern clear in his face. He sees Sam, propped up against the databank, her face in her hands. He stands and steps over to her, raising a hesitant hand, unsure whether he should reach out to her or not. 

“Sam? What is it?”

She lowers her hands, raising her head and pushing her exhaustion aside to say:

“That comet...if it keeps moving, or if there’s other sources of the same radiation in either universe, and the wraith continue to use the drive...there could be more rips in space time. More chances for something other than us to cross over. And if it keeps happening...we’ve been lucky so far that the rip we came through didn't seem to damage the rest of space time. But if there are more? If every wraith ship in this universe has one of those drives? They could tear the fabric of space time apart.”

Rodney stares down at the deck for a moment, processing that. 

“Oh. So we’re not just stuck in an alternate universe where the wraith are all powerful. We’re not even lucky enough that these two universes might be destroyed. No, every single universe that exists could be wiped out of existence. Is that right?”

Sam grins weakly and says: 

“Doesn’t sound any better hearing it the second time.”

Rodney returns to his chair, sitting down heavily. Then he looks up her, hopeful, and asks:

“So. What’s the plan?”

Sam straightens up, into her commander’s stance. She says:

“I think it may all depend on our prisoner in the infirmary.”

\-------------

Sam enters the infirmary the next morning, having shaken off the sleep deprivation by getting a couple of hours of sleep in her bunk. Not as much sleep as she would have preferred, but enough to keep her going. Rodney had joined the sleepover party in the infirmary and is now happily demolishing a platter of infirmary food. Teyla, Ronon and John are picking at similar plates without much enthusiasm. John looks much better than he did yesterday; he seems to be enjoying himself, other than the food. Pirate John is the opposite; he looks like he’d do anything to be out of here. The nurse looks similarly annoyed; he’s most likely been tearing his hair out trying to keep the volatile mix of John, Ronon and Rodney under control. Teyla no doubt tried to assist him on some level, but she also has a habit of permitting their shenanigans. She finds it amusing to see where they’re going with it.

Everyone’s attention turns to Sam as she enters, except Rodney who is busy stuffing his face with mashed potatoes. John and Ronon wave hello and Teyla stands, stepping up to walk beside Sam. It’s a wordless offer of support in the coming conversation with their prisoner, which Teyla has no doubt deduced is Sam’s reason for coming here. Sam pulls over a chair and once again sits at pirate John’s bedside, Teyla remaining standing at her side. Pirate John looks at them, his desperation to get out of the infirmary half hidden by an emotionless facade, but still creeping out from beneath the mask in spots. Sam smiles at him and says:

“Your stay with us has come to an end, which I’m sure you’re as happy about as we are.”

Pirate John grunts noncommittally, his eyes flicking towards Rodney, Ronon and John. It’s probably the most confirmation she’s going to get. She continues:

“We’ve found a planet with substantial ruins and a multitude of edible plants. You will be able to survive on your own there, if necessary. Our hope is that your people will find you, but we can’t be sure that they will. It’s the best we can do without knowing any locations your cell frequents. ”

The corner of pirate John’s mouth curls up slightly, but otherwise he doesn’t respond. 

Sam leans forwards and explains the catch:

“I thought you should know, we figured out what the spatial disturbance was. The wraith are testing a new drive, capable of much quicker transit throughout space. We don’t know how widespread the knowledge of this drive is amongst the wraith, but we need to find the drive and destroy it. Left untouched, it could destroy the fabric of space time, which would be no good for anyone. Now, I know you probably don’t believe me. But once we release you, I am hoping you will see that we are trustworthy. What I need you to do, once you’ve decided whether to help us or not, is get me intel. How many wraith know about the new drive, and which ship has the drive and the data on the project. If you can tell us where to strike, we can destroy the hive, capture the drive within, and hopefully take all of their experimental data as well. If we do this right, we could save not only this universe, but many others as well. ”

Pirate John has only gotten more guarded, but Sam didn’t expect a response. She says:

“I hope we can look forward to working together in the future.”

Sam stands and calls the two guards stationed at the door inside to accompany the prisoner to the transport room. Sam herself reaches down to undo the restraints holding the pirate down. Once he’s free he moves slowly, standing and stretching his limbs, obviously trying to appear non threatening. Sam gestures him ahead and he ambles forward without complaint. She walks besides him, giving everyone in the infirmary a nod as they leave. As they walk down the hallways, she says to him:

“Behave for a few more minutes and you’ll be as free as a bird.”

Pirate John smiles at her, obviously still waiting to see if she’s telling the truth, and keeps walking.

\--------

Rodney enters the bridge a few minutes early, bringing with him a pair of the ship’s standard coffee mugs. He sets one of the cups down on the arm of Sam’s command chair before leaning against the helmsman’s chair, despite it being occupied by Smith. Sam doesn’t express how grateful she is for his small but thoughtful gesture, she just takes a sip. Rodney is already slurping his down much the same way an anaconda would swallow a deer. The helmsman twitches with annoyance at the sound, but doesn’t say anything to drive Rodney out of his personal space. Ronon and Teyla arrive together, wearing the soft workout clothes that no doubt means they were just sparring. John is the last to arrive for their meeting, but he isn’t technically late, though he cuts it close.

Sam feels a headache coming on again, but straightens up to begin their daily meeting. They have met once a day for each of the seven days that have passed since they released the alternate John. Mostly the meetings were used to share the information they’ve gathered, which hasn’t been much. As soon as they had released the alternate John, Sam had ordered the Daedalus into a nearby nebula. It will, hopefully, be enough to hide them from the wraith. It probably helps that the wraith have gotten complacent; they don’t believe there are any humans left with the ability to threaten them. Even so, if they were to happen across the Daedalus, they would destroy it without thinking twice. She shakes off the thoughts of their potential destruction and begins to speak:

“Alright, the biggest news I have is that the lab has finished their analysis of the nebula. I’m afraid it’s bad news; the nebula is somewhat corrosive and it has begun slowly eating away at the hull. If we stay here too long, it could eventually compromise our atmospheric seal.”

Rodney groans, striding behind her to throw his now empty cup down on a nearby databank, which causes loud clattering, before returning to her field of view. He gestures wildly as he paces across the small patch of deck in front of her command chair and says:

“That’s not good, not good at all. Couldn’t we find a less toxic nebula to hide in?”

Sam checks the small touch screen on the arm of her chair, but she already knows the answer.

“The area of space we were transported into by the disturbance was unfortunate. It is relatively empty of space matter, and appears to be a common path for wraith hive ships. We could make a break for a planet some lightyears away, but our chances of making it without being observed would be about fifty fifty.”

John crosses his arms over his chest and says:

“I don’t like those odds.”

Sam nods and says:

“I agree.”

Teyla asks:

“And we have not received any communication? If the alternate John does attempt to contact us, will the transmission be able to reach us through the nebula?”

Sam swipes through to the lab report on her screen to make sure she’s remembering correctly before she replies:

“They report that the nebula could have a small dampening effect, but not enough to stop us from receiving a transmission, as long as the broadcasting ship was at the planet where we left John, or at the location where we entered this universe. We have to assume that is where he would broadcast from, as we have no idea where any of their bases are.”

Ronon speaks up:

“It’s been a week. When do we decide he’s just not going to call us, ever?”

Sam sighs. She’s still holding out hope, but she has to make command decisions based on evidence, not her feelings.

“We don’t know how long it will take his people to find him, or if they ever will. He may choose not to call us, or he may not be able to. So we have to look at how long our supplies will last. We have enough food and water for two months in space, but the nebula will probably get to us before we run out of supplies. If the nebula eats too many holes in the hull, we will have trouble getting her in good enough shape to go through atmosphere.”

John raises his eyebrows, looking surprised. 

“You’re planning to land her on a planet?”

Sam keeps her voice confident as she speaks, despite this decision having caused her many sleepless nights:

“I don’t see that we have much choice. If we remain in space, the wraith, the nebula, or the lack of supplies will eventually get to us. If we land her on a suitable planet, one with edible flora and fauna, and one far from wraith’s main transportation lanes, we will have a better chance of surviving long term. We have no hope of getting home without the wraith drive, and if the other John doesn’t get us the intel we need, our only way to find it would be to fly around and check every hive ship in the universe for the drive’s signature. Obviously, that is not doable. So as far as we know, we could be here for years. We will not survive that long in space and Atlantis has been destroyed in this universe, so our only option is a habitable planet.”

John doesn’t look like he disagrees, but he does say:

“I don’t imagine you haven’t noticed, but morale is very low. If you land the ship, you will be telling everyone we don’t have hope of getting home.”

Sam’s headache has migrated from a small spot on her temple to the whole front of her head. She doesn’t rub at her forehead likes she wants to as she replies:

“The crew can be as unhappy as they want about settling down on a planet. My job is to keep them alive, not give them false hope.”

John doesn’t argue. He looks at Rodney, who is still pacing and is now muttering under his breath. The scientist is twitchy with nervous energy, making his gait unsteady. He’s scrunched his eyes shut as he tries to focus, but he’s obviously getting nowhere fast. Their situation has been resisting every effort she and Rodney have made to solve it. Teyla and Ronon look mournful, but obviously understand the logic of Sam’s argument.

Sam turns to look at the helmsman as she orders:

“Smith, send the planetary data to the Asgard room. We’ll get started looking for potential candidates.”

Smith nods and Sam stands, telling the four she was meeting with:

“Rodney is going to accompany me, but you three can come with if you’d like, or return to whatever else you were doing.”

They begin to follow her as she heads to the door. They’re almost out of the bridge when they hear a loud crackle of static. Everyone’s heads whip around, instantly on alert. Sam practically sprints back to her command chair as she asks:

“What is that, Smith?”

Smith replies:

“Ma’am, we’re getting a transmission coming through. I’m going to try to clean it up, there’s some interference.”

Everyone on the bridge stays very still and listens, like prairie dogs listening for the cry of the hawk.

“This....she...lling....lus...ve... in...an...u....pond...”

Smith quickly and competently works at his station before turning to Sam and saying:

“The nebula seems to be affecting the transmission slightly. If we could move to the edge of the nebula, we would have less trouble receiving.”

Sam nods and mutters to herself:

“Put less nebula between us and them.”

Then she raises her voice and orders the navigator:

“Sullivan, move us as close as you can to the edge of the nebula without revealing us.”

Sullivan nods and they can feel the engines surge as they move at sub light speed towards open space. Sullivan carefully maneuvers the ship into place before nodding at Smith and saying:

“Try the transmission again.”

A familiar voice comes through the bridge’s speakers:

“....can you respond?”

Sam grins up at the ceiling, as if the alternate John could look down and see her through the light years of space between them. She orders Smith to open a channel to respond and says:

“John, we can hear you. It’s good to hear your voice.”

John’s voice is lighthearted as he speaks:

“Well, my cell was worried out of their minds when I didn’t report. Fortunately, the planet you left me on is one we frequent because of the medicinal plants there. But when I returned to my cell with the excuse that I was kidnapped by my alternate self, they didn’t want to believe me without proof. Are you able to transmit and receive video as well as audio?”

Sam looks at Smith and he nods. She replies:

“We’ll open a video channel now.”

Their newly installed Asgard hologram springs to life, becoming a square block of white light floating in front of them. Then the video comes through, showing a scruffy alternate John in a dimly lit room that appears to be hewn out of rock. Sam smiles and him and says:

“Your transmission is coming through surprisingly well.”

John explains:

“We have a few relay stations throughout the galaxy that help us coordinate attacks on the wraith, we’re lucky that one is close enough to you to transfer the data needed for the video.” 

Sam is curious about the relay stations but doesn’t pry; the fact that John has contacted them bodes well, but he probably still isn’t going to like it if she pushes too hard for information. She asks:

“Is this a purely social call?”

John says:

“No, I do have your intel. We have the location of the hive ship with the prototype drive and our contacts say the hive ship will remain there for some time, at least a couple of weeks. I will transmit the data burst to you, but I would recommend hitting them soon. They’re evidently pretty close to having a drive that works and could be used to outfit their fleet.”

Sam tries not to look too overjoyed, but she can feel an abrupt shift in the feel of the bridge. Her crew sit up a little straighter and have a bit more of a spring in their steps as their hope of getting home returns. She says:

“Thank you. You don’t know how much it means to us.”

John shrugs and says:

“You let me go. I felt one good turn deserves another. But, more importantly, I couldn’t help you get home without introducing you to my cell first. Otherwise they’d never believe me that I kicked my own ass!”

\----------

John watches as his alternate self leans back, gesturing people behind the camera into the frame. There’s a moment of fumbling and rearranging before the seven people in the room look at the camera. They are all familiar faces, if a bit more worn and dirtied. Two, in particular, feel like a punch to the stomach. Elizabeth has grown her hair out, worn in a well kept braid down her back. It’s a familiar Athosian style of braid, no doubt Teyla’s handiwork. Ford is still wearing his favorite baseball cap, though it looks pretty tattered. He looks just as young as John remembers. Lorne and Zelenka lean against each other, looking more friendly with each other than John can ever remember them being in his universe. Rodney is even more surprising; there is a large gun thrown over his shoulder by a leather strap and he’s holding it with total confidence. John even thinks he spots some knives on the belt around his waist. The Rodney John knows is totally useless with weapons, so he’s never looked like this, like he can use them with ease. Beside him stands Teyla, a pair of short wooden staffs strapped to her back, looking as calm as ever. There’s no sign of her despair at being the last Athosian. He hopes that she has found ways to keep her people alive in spirit.

John finds himself stepping towards the screen, drawn forwards by the sight of his dead friends. He feels that if maybe he could reach through and touch them, they would come back and everything would be okay. But that’s a child’s unrealistic hope; even if they exist in this universe, they cannot be taken as replacements for the ones he has lost. They may look similar, but they are different people. They have experienced a different timeline of events, creating new memories and new neural pathways, until their brain has diverged from their alternate’s in a way that means they are no longer the same person he knew.

Even so, John can’t help the name that slips out:

“Ford.”

Ford hears his name and perks up, focusing on John as he smiles brightly and says:

“It’s strange to see you like this, but it is good to see you, sir.”

John smiles, a mixture of happiness and sadness roiling in his chest.

“It’s good to see you too, Ford. You don’t know much I’ve missed you...”

Ford tilts his head curiously, obviously catching on to John’s tone, which is heavy with emotion he’s trying to hold back.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

John looks down, angry at himself for bringing up the fact that their Ford was gone, but he feels like this Ford should know, nonetheless.

“There was an attempted invasion of Atlantis. You were attacked by a wraith. You survived, but you were injected with wraith’s venom and it made you irrational. You ran from us, and we chased you across the universe, but when we met last...you were on a hive ship that was destroyed. We don’t know what happened, but we haven’t seen you since.”

Ford looks somber, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He says quietly:

“I’m sorry to hear that. I know I wouldn’t have wanted to leave you. I’m sure you were a good friend to him.”

John feels his throat choke up; he doesn’t feel like he did enough. Having forgiveness from a Ford, even one not his own, feels like it burns. He hopes it’s a sort of cleansing fire, making way for new growth from the ashes of the old. He looks back up to meet Ford’s eyes and says:

“Are you happy here, Ford?”

Ford hesitates before he explains:

“Well, we’ve all been through a lot. I still think about my grandparents and Earth and I miss them so much. And we still have the threat of the wraith hanging over our heads, although we’ve gotten pretty good at outsmarting them. But yes, I am happy. Honestly, I am.”

John smiles, the pain of his loss warring with the joy of knowing that this Ford is safe and happy. Though it does hurt in a particular way, that even in this universe where they had lost Atlantis and Earth, Ford is happier here. John has to push down the feeling that he failed Ford; this alternate John had managed to save him from the total destruction of Atlantis, but John hadn’t gotten his Ford off the hive ship when he had a chance. John feels guilt for a lot of things, it shows up in his dream and his therapy sessions. But Ford has to be one of the worst ones. 

The silence hangs there for a moment before Elizabeth tries to lighten the mood:

“Anyone else missing we should know about?”

The whole bridge flinches. Elizabeth almost instantly realizes something is wrong. Pirate John speaks up while the Daedalus crew try to gather themselves. He speaks to Elizabeth:

“Well…funny you if all people should ask that.”

Elizabeth looks shocked as she asks incredulously:

“Me?”

Pirate John says:

“They tell me it was a noble death.”

Despite the dark subject matter, Elizabeth laughs and replies:

“I wouldn’t settle for anything less.”

Pirate John grins at her, reaching out to pat her shoulder fondly.

Elizabeth smiles down at him before looking back up, pushing a strand of hair that has escaped her braid back. Then she says seriously to the Daedalus crew:

“I apologize, we joke as a coping mechanism. It’s how we’ve gotten through our own personal suffering. But I know this was real for you, and may even be fresh wounds. We mean no disrespect to the memory of your Elizabeth.”

John still feels the aching of never seeing their Elizabeth again, never seeing her inner fire, hear her skilled oratory, or watch her willingness to do anything for her people. Despite the reminder of that ache, he smiles up at this other Elizabeth and says:

“You sound just like her.”

She smiles that familiar smile and John feels that, despite this not being their Elizabeth, he is glad that she is still alive somewhere, even if she is lost to them. These alternate selves have lost people and not gained others; they’ve never met Ronon, or Keller, but they’ve also never had to say goodbye to Ford or Elizabeth. John doesn’t think he could weigh the difference and pick which universe was better; this is what reality is for them, and they will live with it. There cannot be highs without lows; no joy without grief. 

Elizabeth is watching them with her kind, patient eyes, waiting for them to continue talking. In the silence, John picks up on a sounds he hadn’t before: a low murmur, someone speaking quietly and not in a language he understands. He quickly traces it to the other Zelenka, who is leaning against Lorne, speaking intently to him. John watches for a moment as Lorne replies, his voice equally incomprehensible. His speech is slow and halted, as if he is struggling to put the words together.

Pirate John notices John’s attention has shifted and turns to look at Lorne and Zelenka, unsurprised by their side conversation. Pirate John says:

“You two want to share with the class?”

Lorne looks mutinous and says:

“No.”

Pirate John rolls his eyes:

“I swear you started learning Czech just to gossip about the rest of us without us understanding you.”

Lorne looks annoyed and snarks back:

“Yes, I’m sure that’s it, not because it’s a worthwhile pursuit and a beautiful language--”

Zelenka interrupts him, saying:

“He has definitely told me some secrets.”

Lorne gapes, looking betrayed, and says:

“Radek!”

The spell of grief over the Daedalus crew breaks as snickering starts, before developing into an infectious laughter. The pirates laugh too, which only makes Lorne look more irritated. Zelenka is chuckling too, and he says:

“Don’t be so uptight, Evan.”

Lorne replies sarcastically:

“Oh, sure. It’s always funny when it’s someone else, but when it's your turn...”

But even so, Lorne softens. He’s obviously fond of the Czech Scientist. John finds the development of relationships in alternate universes fascinating; people grow and change, forming configurations that John never could have imagined. It’s a tribute to the rich diversity of the universe, or universes, and to the enduring human spirit which, at its heart, is about loving one another.

Onc the laughter has trailed off, Sam takes the opportunity to say:

“We’ve received your data burst, John. We’ll take a couple days to form a plan of attack and then we will move on the hive.”

The alternate John looks serious as he says:

“We wish you luck, for the good of everyone. Will you let us know if you are successful?”

Sam smiles, already growing fond of these alternate selves, and says:

“Of course. We wouldn’t go home without saying goodbye first.”

John grins at her and says:

“It was an honor to meet you, Sam. Good luck.”

Sam nods to him and then to Smith, who cuts the channel and the hologram fades out of view. The bridge is quiet until Sam orders:

“All right everyone, let’s get to it!”

\------------------

John is wandering the halls of the Daedalus. It is quiet, as it always is during the night shift. John is rarely awake this late---normally he sleeps like the dead---but he hasn’t been sleeping well in this strange new universe. Something about the wraith being poised to destroy everything he loves, and beyond that, everything that currently existed. There is nowhere they could run that would save them if they don’t succeed in destroying the drive. And even worse, their alternate selves are waiting for them to give the word that the threat has been eliminated. John has failed himself many times before, and they haunt him, but it’s not quite the same as literally having another self waiting, helpless, unable to do anything but watch the comm channels. It reminds John of letting their replicator selves act as bait for the attacking replicators, the alternates dying alone and unknown on some unimportant planet. It’s unavoidable, and they made their choices, but it bothers him.

So John is walking in circles, picking random hallway after hallway. He’s past the doorway to the mess hall before he notices it’s not empty. He stops and cranes his head back around the corner to see who it is. It’s not really the time for anyone to be eating; the night shift is busy running the ship and everyone else is getting much needed sleep. But there is Teyla, clutching a steaming cup of tea like the world will end if she lets go. John doesn’t hesitate as he changes direction. There is no surprising Teyla; she was aware of him before he had even walked past the doorway. She doesn’t look up from her blank stare down at the table as he approaches. He pulls a chair out carefully, not letting it squeak across the floor, and pulls it up as close to her as he can get. He sees her lips twitch into a small, secret smile. She still doesn’t look at him, but he knows she doesn’t mind his presence. He reaches out, slowly, and runs his fingers through the strands of hair falling into her face, pushing them back up behind her ear. He is gentle, touching her like she’ll break, though he knows she’s made of the strongest steel. 

She finally looks up, her eyes so soft it takes his breath away, and tilts her head to rest her cheek against his palm. He stays perfectly still, just sitting with her. Her warmth soaks into his skin and he breathes deep, calming himself as well as her. They stay that way for a long moment, until they’re almost breathing in unison. He knows that he can always go to her if he needs to talk, or to just be held, and she knows he will do the same for her if she asks. There have been new crew members who have dug into the Daedalus’s rumor mill, trying to figure out if they really are sleeping together. It irritates John to have his relationship with Teyla so cheapened by people who don’t understand. Sex feels unimportant, completely uninspiring compared with just being known by her. She knows him deep in his soul, the ugly broken parts that he wants to hide. But she has always seen through him, and she has never judged him. She loves him in all his complexity, and he does the same for her. 

What the newbies really miss out on is that Teyla is this way for all of her team. The terran’s minds are so small, thinking that such a deep intimacy could only be shared with one person, never more. Athosians love with their whole hearts, in a way that makes romantic love almost meaningless; you are no one without a family, without friends, without a community. An Athosian would never put their spouse ahead of their friends, and their spouse would never expect them to. They believe love is made stronger by sharing it with many people. Children’s birth parents are not any more or less loving than their adopted parents. Athosian children who are asked by terrans who their parents are may name so many people it leaves the terran’s head spinning. The whole community raises the child, and anyone who is unkind to any child will quickly be socially exiled. There will be no raised voices, no weapons involved, but that person will suddenly be utterly alone. Teyla had explained once; with the wraith culling people, you could lose your entire blood family in one fell swoop. This way, rather than being left totally alone if that should happen, you would have people to turn to. Children are seen as the most precious thing an Athosian could have because so many children were lost, to wraith, to sickness, to starvation. Athosian children are protected at all costs and loved with a fire that rarely is seen from the easy going Athosians.

John feels that himself, Rodney, and Ronon are extremely lucky that Teyla had chosen them to become part of her family. The Athosian people had always been kind and honest with the terrans, but very few of them had joined the Atlantis teams. They had a love of the nature centered life, making a living out of the land, not working in barren hallways made of metal. A few, like Teyla, were curious enough to work with the terrans on Atlantis, but almost none of them had decided to include terrans in their family unit. John suspects that some of them had offered, but many terrans don’t understand the meaning of such a request. After a few disastrous attempts to include terrans, perhaps word had gotten around the Athosian camp that terrans were pleasant enough, and powerful, valued allies, but not very good family members. John knows terrans are just as capable of deep emotion as the Athosians are, but the culture shock could be very difficult to get over. 

When Torren had been born, as soon as Teyla was out of the infirmary, she would knock on one of her teammate’s doors at three in the morning, holding a squirming and wailing Torren in her arms. She felt no shame in asking the men to help her walk Torren around the halls of Atlantis in their arms. She had to teach Rodney and John how to properly hold a baby first, which amused both her and Ronon. Poor Torren had colic, and he made sure everyone knew it, so by the fourth day the four of them had drawn up a schedule of who would take Torren at night. That way they all got a reasonable amount of sleep. John had never felt embarrassed walking past his subordinates with Torren cradled in his arms, drooling on his uniform. And when someone in the locker room mentioned how demeaning they thought it was for an officer of his status, he efficiently introduced their head to a nearby locker, denting not only it but also the victim’s skull. Sam had smiled when she read the report and let him off with a warning. No one talked after that.

Teyla is the first to break the silence. He can feel the smooth movement of her jaw under her skin as she speaks against his hand.

“You’re thinking about Torren again.”

John laughs, smoothing his thumb over her cheek before letting his hand drop.

“Am I that obvious?”

She leans back in her chair, raising the cup of tea to her mouth. She drinks and sets the mug back down before saying fondly:

“You have a special look just for him. He puts stars in your eyes.”

John feels his breath taken away for a moment. He knows what she means, he’s seen the same look when Ronon had given a small deer he had carved from driftwood to Torren, or when Rodney showed Torren a volcano he had made erupt with baking soda and vinegar, or when Teyla was wrapped up in a blanket Rodney had knitted her, breast feeding Torren as John read him a story. Once he’s recovered enough John says:

“You sure you’re not a poet?”

Teyla smiles and says:

“I have written a few songs that have been well received.”

John smiles, but slowly sobers. He taps his fingers on the table in a nervous motion, making an uneven galloping tapping. He finally asks, as quiet and as soft as he can:

“Are you thinking about him?”

From the way her face crumples, he knows he was right. Torren is always on their minds, but especially hers. He’s old enough now to miss her when she’s gone, in a way more intense than a baby’s instinct. When they can get a connection on the Daedalus, Torren calls her as often as possible. He tells her about what he’s learning at school and how the neighbor’s kid had taught him a new jump rope trick. He also makes Rodney, Ronon and John say hello, and insists they all say they love him at the end of the call. He’s getting so big compared to the tiny little thing they would cradle in their arms. His voice is as loud as his wailing as a baby was, and he feels no embarrassment clinging to his mother. He is so proud of her, even though he misses her. He says she is the greatest warrior in the universe, and that he wants to grow up to be like her.

John watches the pain flash across Teyla’s face, and waits in silence. He knows if she wants to talk, she will, and if she doesn’t, she’ll change the subject. They never push each other; they understand it is an honor to share their deepest feelings with each other, and demanding more than what is freely given will only break the trust between them. Teyla curls her hands around the warmth of the ceramic mug as she begins to speak:

“My identity has changed over time, as most people’s do. I have grown, leaving behind my old shells like an insect molting. When I was a child I was shattered by the loss of my parents in the numerous cullings. I was not left alone, but even the love piled on me by my people could not replace that of my parent’s. Once I was old enough, I became the leader of my people. I led them through good years and bad years, and I loved them through it all. Once I met you, I chose to become a warrior. I wanted to fight the wraith, and for years I did. That was how I defined myself, through the number of wraith I had killed. I gloried in their death, as it meant increasing safety for not only my people, but all of the peoples of pegasus.”

John listens to her pause, breathing deep and considering her next words, and he says softly:

“You have always been more than your ability to kill. You welcomed my people when we were strangers, cut off from our home planet, walking in the steps of the ancients without knowing where they would lead. You met us with kindness and love, and you made a home for us in your universe.”

Teyla smiles at him, explaining:

“It is the Athosian way. If someone is homeless, you open your home to them. If you help others in need now, you will be helped if you find yourself in need later. It is by helping others that we build a better world, for us, for them, and for all of our children. Simply sharing a pot of tea with a stranger has changed our world before, and it will again.”

John jokes: 

“Having tried Athosian tea, I believe it.”

Teyla laughs, a bright noise that John loves to hear. It never gets any less beautiful to listen to. Teyla almost never makes jokes, but she thoroughly enjoys those of her teammates. She continues to smile, but begins speaking seriously again: 

“When I had Torren, I suddenly defined myself by more than death. To bring life into the world was beautifully overwhelming. He was so small and so strong, his tiny body fighting to live. I wanted to give him everything. I wanted to raise cities or destroy worlds for him. But still the wraith exist, threatening him and the others I love. I want my son to be safe, and painfully, that means I must leave him. I feel I must go on missions, even though they are dangerous. I have to make a difference, even if that means missing him as if my heart will break. I want to be more than his mother; I want to be one who brought the wraith low. I want to finally be able to look out over a universe free from their tyranny.”

John watches her calm turn fierce, a righteous rage burning in her eyes. He would not like to be her enemy; he has no doubt she would tear him down and salt his earth until he was left barren. He says quietly, intently, full of honest faith:

“I believe you will do it.”

Teyla looks at him proudly and says:

“It will be our life’s work. Many people will have helped, fought at our sides, and died for our cause.”

John sighs and feels a pang of grief: he will never see Ford or Elizabeth meet Torren. He knows they would have loved him as much as he does. He says sadly:

“A war cannot be ended without sacrifice. There is no clean victory.”

Teyla looks somber, nodding.

“I fear I will become one of those fallen soldiers.”

John feels a kick of fear at the thought of losing Teyla, he reaches out to touch her shoulder, to comfort her as well as himself. After a quick caress, his fingers against her soft skin and the leather strap of her shirt, he pulls away again and says gently:

“Well I can’t guarantee that won’t happen, but why do you feel that way? I mean, you’ve survived so much, you’re practically a cat with nine lives at this point.”

Teyla sighs, pressing a hand to her forehead for a moment before she replies:

“I cannot help but think of the worst case scenario, leaving Torren alone, with no coming back, no holding him again, no singing him to sleep at night. That I fear more than anything else.”

John tries to comfort her, saying with complete assurance:

“That won’t happen.”

Teyla looks up, a wild flash of fear in her eyes before she pushes it down, controlling her emotions. She says, all in a rush:

“Even now, we may be trapped in this universe. The worst could happen, I could never see him again. He would grow up without me, and that is haunting me. I know he has many others who will love him and keep him safe, but I want to be there for him.”

John scoots his chair closer, despite there being less than an inch between them already. The plastic bodies of the chairs meet with an unhappy squeal and he leans into Teyla, pressing their sides together as if he were glued to her. She lets her head fall down on his shoulder and sighs happily. They are both physically expressive people who speak through their movement as well as their words. John wraps his arms around Teyla until they’re both warmer from their shared body heat and says softly:

“You will be there for Torren. We are going to get back to our universe and have another great story to tell him. He’ll lose his mind at the thought of there being two of you in the same universe. Don’t worry, okay?”

Teyla relaxes further into John’s arms and says:

“Okay.”

He squeezes her a little tighter, until he feels the last bit of tension leave her shoulders, before he risks saying:

“I know you will kill me if I suggest babying you during missions again...”

Teyla’s eyes as she turns to him are as sharp as a knife. She says lowly:

“When you found out I was pregnant and reacted so badly, you are lucky I didn’t knock some sense into you using the nearest wall. Very few men would have gotten away with that, but I decided that you did not need yet another concussion. Even so, I expect your continued apologies until the day I decide it has been enough.”

John laughs and nods quickly:

“I am very sorry and I was being a total dick because I was worried. I have learned better ways to cope with my concern since then.”

Teyla says cheerily:

“I thank the gods for your therapist every day. Had you been left to your own devices I am sure you would become a horror that stalked the halls of Atlantis, snapping at anyone who stumbled upon you.”

John considers that before joking:

“I think Rodney’s got that covered already, Atlantis doesn’t need two of those.”

Teyla laughs and grins agreeingly before saying:

“So what were you about to suggest?”

John loses his humor and explains:

“The attack on the drive ship tomorrow. I need a warrior to stay at the puddle jumper with Rodney, ready to get us the hell out of there once we have the drive. It can be either you or Ronon. You’ll be responsible for defending the puddle jumper as well as Rodney. The other warrior is coming with me to get the drive.”

Teyla quickly understands and says:

“You are offering me the easier, safer job. I stay with the puddle jumper and I am more likely to return to Torren.”

John looks her in the eyes and says honestly:

“Yes. I just want you to have the choice.”

Teyla rolls her shoulder and cracks her neck carefully, taking that time to consider her options. Finally, she decides:

“I will stay with Rodeny.”

John nods, sure that she can feel the movement even if she can’t see it.

“Okay. I’ll tell Ronon and Rodney in the morning.”

Teyla hums an affirmative and makes no move to wiggle out of John’s embrace. She seems perfect content to sit in his arms, even if it means she can’t reach her tea, leaving it to cool on the table. They continue to sit wrapped up in each other, listening to the silence of the sleeping Daedalus, occasionally marred by a machine beeping or a far away crew member speaking. John is finally relaxing, and even inching towards falling asleep, when Teyla shifts slightly and raises her voice to say:

“Perhaps we should move to a bunk.”

John sighs, fully considering whining about how comfortable he is and how much he doesn’t want to have to walk all the way to the crew quarters. But he knows the pain his body will be in if he falls asleep in one of these chairs will be much worse than the short walk. So he unwraps his arms, releasing Teyla, who stands and stretches carefully before grabbing her mug of tea to properly dispose of it. She drains the cup and rinses it out; meanwhile, John spends the time hopping in a circle, hissing and cursing under his breath at his leg that’s fallen asleep. The staticky feel remains, but he’s able to put pressure on it by the time Teyla returns to his side.

He begins to awkwardly make his way out of the mess hall, his sleepy leg still making him limp slightly, as he asks her:

“You had enough cuddling for tonight?”

Teyla slows her pace to suit him and turns to smile at him as she says:

“You are always welcome in my bed, John.”

John grins at that and throws an arm around her shoulder, the pair leaning on each other as they make their way through the hallways. They don’t run into anyone else and it’s a reasonably short walk before Teyla is waving open the door to what is, officially, her and Ronon’s onboard room. It often hosts Rodney and John as well, which suits all of them fine, although it is somewhat of an art fitting four full grown adults into a room meant for two. Teyla and John step inside and glance around the room: there’s the bunk bed, the main piece of furniture in the room, and a desk which was meant to be Teyla’s but is mostly covered in Rodney’s papers and laptops. The room is lit by a gentle glow that is decidedly not the regulation overhead light, which is a painfully bright white fluorescent. Teyla had instead put in a small lamp with a much softer bulb and with decorative strands of colorful glass which reflect rainbows over the walls. Ronon and Teyla had worked together to cover the room’s stark metal walls in textiles, some made in a traditional Satedan embroidery style by the survivors of the planet, some made by Athosian leather workers, and the rest from numerous worlds in countless different techniques and colors. John is perhaps the least present in the room, but his touches are just smaller: a pair of pistols hanging in their holsters from the top bunk, meant for anyone who needs them in an emergency, as well a stack of ration bars on the edge of the desk, mostly in Rodney’s favorite flavor but also with a couple that Ronon and Teyla would enjoy.

As Teyla and John enter, the lump covered in blankets on the top bunk shifts, and Ronon peers out at them sleepily. He had obviously been asleep a moment ago, but he awakens at the slightest sound to see if there is a threat. His dreadlocks are loose, falling into his face, and he lets out a large yawn. John waves at him in greeting and is about to speak when Ronon peels back the blanket to reveal Rodney curled up in the curve of his body. He is a deeply unconscious little spoon, and he and Ronon barely fit on the bed. Despite Ronon’s height, he prefers the top bunk, and it’s not unusual to find Rodney up there with him. Rodney would deny that fact if it was mentioned outside of this room, but no one brings it up. This space, much like their rooms back on Atlantis, is considered somewhat sacred. They are allowed to be their most comfortable selves here, where no one will judge them.

John and Teyla step into the room, John taking a seat on the lower bunk to undo his boots, while Teyla leans up to press her forehead to Ronon’s in the traditional Athosian greeting for close family. They are both careful not to jostle Rodney as they do so. John, similarly, does not drop his shoes on the floor once he’s removed them, instead carefully and silently placing them at the bottom end of the bunk. Teyla turns away from Ronon and moves over to the small closet where her clothes hang. She pulls out a pair of soft pants and a long sleeved shirt, more appropriate for sleeping than the leather top she’s wearing at the moment. She also pulls out a uniform in John’s size and drops it next to him on the bed. He nods his thanks but decides to check his gun and put it away before changing. Teyla stands in the small space at the end of the bed and strips, without shame and without sexuality, simply taking her clothes off to put new ones on. 

Athosians do not have the same feelings about sexual nudity as Terrans do. The first time Teyla asked about changing in front of them, Rodney had squawked and covered his eyes like she was magically going to become naked right that moment. Teyla had patiently waited for him and John to get over their initial shock before explaining that to her, changing clothes in front of them was not considered sexual despite the nudity, but if it bothered them she understood. John and Rodney had learned at this point to try and open their minds, though Rodeny had looked up at Ronon and asked if he had already seen Teyla naked. Ronon had easily responded yes, with no concern in his voice at all. Rodney had then, somewhat bluntly asked:

“But you two aren’t?”

The implied “fucking” was understood by Ronon and Teyla. They had looked at each other for a moment before Ronon had spoken, sounding almost amused:

“No.”

Rodney had sputtered, unable to understand. Teyla had taken the time to explain:

“We are not currently sexual with each other, no. Both Ronon and I consider each other family, and feel like nudity is not necessarily sexual. It is simply a state of being, and we are comfortable enough around each other to see and be seen that way.”

John and Rodney had still struggled with the concept, so they had decided to take a break and think it about it. It took many more conversations before the Terrans came around, but once they were able to understand this relationship was not necessarily romantic, but still just as deep a love, and that people so closely tied together share pretty much everything with each other, they agreed to see how it went.

Neither Rodney nor John went insane with lust upon having Teyla (or Ronon) naked around them, so they decided nudity was okay in small doses. Rodeny was very clear that he didn’t want anyone lounging around naked in the room, in the perfect position to be viewed through the door into the hall should he open it, but they all thought that was reasonable enough.

Teyla finishes pulling her sleep clothes on and begins to tidy up the room as she waits for John to be ready for bed as well. She leaves Rodey’s mess of a desk alone; she had made it clear she was not a maid and that John, Rodney and Ronon are all expected to clean up after themselves. But she is carefully rearranging the contents of the desk’s drawers, which are not Rodney’s work materials like the top of the desk. Each of the team members have a drawer in the desk, a space just for them. Teyla’s is mostly stocked with a small supply of Athosian tea, some caramel candy, meat jerky, a sewing kit, and a stash of small colorful rocks Torren had gifted her from when they had visitedon of earth’s beaches. John’s drawer has been stuffed with a large first aid kit, extra ammo for the pistols hanging on the bed, and some long lasting military style dried food. Rodney’s is filled with extra blank paper, pencils and pens, and a small stash of powdered donuts that he doesn’t let even his team touch. As much as he loves them, food is where he draws the line. Ronon’s drawer is filled with his knives that aren’t important enough to carry on his person and, most importantly, a small stuffed animal.

It was the Satedan equivalent of a squirrel; a small mammal with red fur that lived off seeds and nuts. He had a similar stuffed animal when he was younger, and had kept it with him even once he had grown to adulthood. He only lost it once the invasion occurred, once he couldn’t carry it with him on the battlefield. When he had seen a similar stuffed animal in a market on one of the worlds they had visited, he had immediately rushed over and bought it without thinking twice. Despite the likely ridicule it could have brought upon him, he carried it back to Atlantis under his arm. (Teyla had already turned to Rodeny and John as soon as the animal was spotted, and gotten across that if they even opened their mouth to joke she would end them.)

Ronon moves the stuffed animal from the Daedalus and back to Atlantis depending on the mission. He keeps it with him always, although he doesn’t sleep with it. It’s the only reminder of his parents he keeps. He doesn’t speak about them often; their loss is still a wound he is nursing, despite the years that have passed. They have all grown fond of the squirrel, which Rodney often calls Alvin. Torren loves that he can share his stuffed animals with someone who appreciates them, so Ronon has been party to all his hard decisions about which ones to keep in his bed, which ones to retire before they became threadbare, and which to trade with his friends for a more desirable stuffed toy. Torren has packed away most of his stuffed animals by this point, but he still keeps one in his room to remind him of Alvin, and by extension Ronon.

John finishes changing, though you couldn’t tell by looking at him. He wears the same exact thing everyday, which Ronon says would drive him mad. For John it’s both comforting and easy; he doesn’t need to think about how to dress himself. He’s also become more and more proud of his uniform as he climbed the ranks from “disobedient guy who’s only here because he has the ATA gene” to “pretty much the second in command of Atlantis”. He hasn’t always placed much importance on rank, but he does find that when that rank is bestowed upon him by leaders such as Elizabeth and Sam, he finds it more worthwhile and meaningful. So he wears his uniform with more pride than he used to.

Once John has changed and Teyla has tidied up her drawer, Teyla pulls their toothbrushes out of a small cup on the desk and hands one over to John. They are color coded, each one the team member’s favorite color, so that they aren’t easily confused when they are all kept together in the single cup. John takes his and grabs the communal tube of toothpaste before following Teyla out of the room and down the hall to the nearest bathroom. Teyla has slipped on a pair of loose sandals, which she seems to prefer when not wearing her comfortable Athosian leather boots. John has laced his uniform standard boots back on: he’s not comfortable going without a sturdy pair of shoes; it’s too informal and it even feels unprepared, like if he had to run he wouldn’t be ready, which is not all that correct because Teyla could do more damage in sandals than many soldiers in steel toed boots, but John indulges his neurosis; it’s easier than fighting it over little things.

Teyla leads the way into the bathroom and takes the center sink while John takes the one farthest from the entrance. Even in a bathroom, they both instinctively try to put distance between them and where they came in, so that they could see an attack coming if it came through the door. Such habits, built through years of fighting for their life, die hard. John waits for Teyla to take her turn on the toothpaste before squeezing some onto his toothbrush and beginning to brush. Athosians, before meeting the Terrans, had used their fingers and water to essentially “brush”, often followed up by a stew of herbs that was their equivalent of mouthwash. The Terrans had offered toothpaste as a trade item, but it was largely met with ambivalence by the Athosians. Teyla had taken some time to get used to the strong mint flavour---which of course was completely alien to her, the pegasus galaxy had similar plants but nothing quite the same--but she quickly got in the habit of using it just out of convenience.

They both brush and spit and then gather their stuff up before heading back out again. Teyla and Ronon prefer showering in the morning, Rodney will refuse to shower any time but the evening, and John could go either way. But he doesn’t feel the need to shower now when he could curl up in bed with Teyla instead. She steps lightly as she makes her way back to their room, her warrior’s grace obvious in her walk. John follows behind her, catching the door as it tries to close on them as they enter. Teyla runs a fond hand over his hand holding the door open before returning her toothbrush back into the cup and settling down in bed. John can hear the soft rustle of pages as she opens a book she’s reading and waits for him to settle down as well. Ronon has watched their return and whispers a complaint:

“I didn’t get a chance to brush my teeth.”

John wrinkles his nose up at him in mock disgust and teases:

“Nasty!”

Ronon rolls his eyes and considers trying to get an arm free to swat at John, but decides it’s not worth waking Rodney over. John changes his tone and asks:

“How did you get him to go to bed?”

Ronon explains, his voice fond but also full of annoyance:

“This idiot was working himself to exhaustion when it finally caught up to him and he slumped over on the desk, asleep as soon as he leaned over. It wasn’t hard to pick him up and move him into the bed. I couldn’t do anything that would wake him up so I figured I’d just go to bed as well.”

Ronon yawns again before asking:

“Why were you two up?”

Teyla speaks from the below, not visible to the men but her voice easy to hear:

“I woke and decided I wanted a cup of tea from the mess hall.”

John nods and adds:

“I was wandering, trying to get tired enough to sleep, when I saw her and we decided to have a late night conversation.”

Ronon smiles softly and teases:

“You two could stay up all night sharing secrets.”

John huffs out a quiet laugh, taking the opportunity to tuck the blanket in tighter around Rodney, running a hand over the other man’s head in a familiar, friendly gesture. Then he looks back up to Ronon and says:

“You could always join us.”

Ronon smirks and says:

“I couldn’t talk that long, I’d get bored.”

John tilts his head, looking Ronon over, making sure he’s also well covered by the blanket. Then he says:

“I don’t know, you always have something worthwhile to say.”

That makes Ronon smile proudly; he doesn’t talk much around most of the crew, but when he feels comfortable with someone he will talk about any subject with a surprising amount of care and interest. Most people think of him as a strong silent type but John knows better. Ronon leans forwards, leaning in to let his and John’s foreheads touch in the Athosian gesture they had all picked up from Teyla. John leans into the touch and lets his eyes close as Ronon does the same. John raises a hand to cup Ronon’s face, feeling the softness of his skin and the scratchy texture of his beard. Ronon’s arms are trapped under Rodney and the blanket, otherwise he would reciprocate. 

John pulls away and pats Ronon on the head, saying:

“Sleep well. Try not to get elbowed by Rodney when he wakes up.”

Ronon groans and disappears back under the blanket as he grumbles:

“I’ve never met someone who could flail like he can.”

John chuckles and plants himself back in the bottom bunk, careful not to sit on Teyla too much. He once again begins unlacing his boots as he asks:

“What are you reading now?”

Teyla lets the impressively massive book fall shut around her finger as she says:

“I am attempting to complete Les Miserables.”

John whistles, impressed. He pushes his boots back to the foot of the bed before pulling his legs up and under the bed sheets. He wiggles his way onto the bed until Teyla is curled up against his back, her the large spoon and him the small. He rests his head on the pillow as he says:

“You know, they call it ‘the brick’ for a reason.”

Teyla laughs and sets the book aside, placing a leather bookmark inside the pages to keep her place. She explains:

“Indeed. The woman who recommended it to me did warn me that there would be lengthy sections that would simply be about the sewer system of Paris.”

John cuddles into her as she places an arm over his chest, replying:

“Fascinating reading I’m sure, but I never got that far, honestly.”

Teyla pulls the blanket up over the sheets, covering them in warmth. The Daedalus is temperature regulated, but Teyla insists it is too warm while Ronon complains it is too cold. Rodney explains every time they bring it up that the temperature is calculated to be the optimum operating temperature for the human body, which they quickly tell him does not mean much when it ‘feels’ wrong. The last time he had rolled his eyes and snarked:

“Well we can’t change the whole ship according to your whims.”

Both Teyla and Ronon had glared at him for a moment before Teyla had stripped off her outer layer of clothing, just as Ronon went looking for a jacket to cover up more. John can’t feel any issue with the temperature, just like Rodney. He’s wondered if maybe it feels right for him and Rodney because they’re from Earth and wrong to Teyla and Ronon because they’re not. Rodney had looked interested for a moment before waving the idea off and returning to his work. Teyla and Ronon had simply shrugged and went back to what they were doing. John must admit researching how Athosians and Satedans respond to temperature doesn’t exactly hold a candle to finding out how Ronon’s gun functions, or how Athosian culture has responded to repeated cullings over the years, or just how the damn wraith’s biology works. He knows enough bullets make wraith dead, but beyond that he’s essentially clueless.

Teyla whispers over his shoulder, returning to the conversation about Les Miserables:

“At the rate I am reading the book, I will be done in about three years.”

John laughs and begins the difficult process of turning over in a bunk only meant for one adult human which is now holding two. He manages to turn around until he’s facing Teyla and says:

“Well, in three years you can tell me how it was.”

Teyla’s already looking sleepy, her eyelids getting heavy. She leans forwards to give him the forehead touch as well and he meets her halfway. Once they pull apart Teyla gives in to the sleepiness and closes her eyes, cuddling down into the pillow as she falls asleep. John watches her for a moment, the graceful curves of her dark eyelashes resting against her cheeks, the jut of the bridge of her nose, the delicate wrinkles beginning to form laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. She’s only getting more beautiful with age, which John isn’t sure he can say the same for himself. He chuckles to himself one more time before closing his eyes and drifting off as well.

\------------

Sam sits in her command chair, Sheppard’s team arrayed around her like she’s a queen being attended to by her court. Sheppard’s team, who typically are a mismatch of clothing from at least three cultures, are almost all dressed in the black military uniform John favors. Ronon still has not been convinced to try it and is remaining in his long Satedan coat. They are all bristling with weapons and look determined. Sam is equally serious; she doesn’t allow fear or worry to show through in her expression, but they know that she is deeply concerned about this mission. 

She clicks a couple more buttons on the arm of her chair before turning her attention on Sheppard and his team. She says:

“You four know the plan, but we’re going to go over it one more time.”

She looks around at their little semicircle, meeting each of their eyes, before continuing:

“From the alternate Sheppard we know that the modified hive ship with the experimental drive is in a system a jump away. There’s only one hive ship, no extra escort. The wraith are apparently trying to keep the drive a secret, possibly because of infighting amongst the queens. The Daedalus will jump into the system and, with the help of the element of surprise, hopefully we can take out their propulsion and main weapons. We’re hoping to destroy their communication systems as well, but that may not be possible. They will no doubt deploy darts, but they shouldn't be able to do much against our upgraded asgard shields. We want them to send the darts, because you four are going to sneak into the dart bay using a cloaked puddle jumper. From there, Sheppard and Ronon will find the drive and the experimental data. In the meantime, Rodney and Teyla will protect the puddle jumper and prepare to leave immediately. Sheppard, Ronon, you will safely remove the drive and data, wipe their computers, and get back to the puddle jumper. If all goes well, hopefully you will return with the drive and we can figure out how to use it to reopen another rip in space-time that leads to our universe. However, if there is significant danger of the mission failing and the wraith recapturing the drive, I am ordering you to destroy it. It’s too dangerous to let it fall back into wraith hands. Do you understand?”

John tries not to think about Torren, alone, or Teyla grieving after being trapped in this universe. All of John’s friends and family on this ship except for Torren; he has much less to lose. He shakes off the creeping dread and nods to Sam as he says:

“Yes, ma’am. You sure you don’t want to stick a couple more marines in the puddle jumper, just in case?”

Sam shakes her head and explains:

“No matter how many marines you took with you, you wouldn’t be able to fight off the numbers of wraith on that ship. If we want this mission to be a success, we will be depending on your stealth.”

John can’t deny that, but he’d still take the placebo of having a couple extra crew along. Sam looks at him and she lets her impassive mask fall slightly, smiling gently at them. She says softly:

“You’ve saved the universe before. This will just be another notch on your belt.”

John doesn’t smile, but he appreciates Sam’s faith in them. Sam looks at them for one more long moment, as if she’s thinking about whether or not she’s sending them to their deaths, before commanding:

“Alright, you know your orders, get down to the puddle jumper.”

They chorus:

“Yes, ma’am.”

John doesn’t look back as they leave the bridge; the only choice is to go forward. It’ll end well or badly, and he can only do so much to push it one way or the other. As a soldier and a commanding officer, he’s faced death himself many times, and ordered others to their deaths almost as often. The frequency doesn't lessen the pain, but this is the life he’s chosen. There is no greater cause to die for than saving others, so he won’t regret this mission, no matter how it ends.

\--------------

Sam waits from Sheppard to confirm that the puddle jumper and its team are ready over comms. Once he’s given her the go ahead, she takes a deep breath, straightens her spine, and locks her eyes on the asgard hologram displaying the Daedalus’s position relative to the targeted wraith ship. Then she turns minutely and nods at Helmsman Smith. He throws the Daedalus into a jump with a practiced ease. Sam mentally counts the seconds until the ship lurches into unfamiliar space. She commands into the comms:

“Fire at will!”

The order was unnecessary; every crew member on the Daedalus, from the gunners to the cooks, have been at the ready. They knew their roles; they would not hesitate. They all know how vital this mission is: they are fighting with the desperation of people who may never see their families or friends again. There is a destructive sense of beauty as the newly installed asgard plasma beams begin to fire, sending purple energy streaking through the blackness of space. The targeted hive begins to bloom with explosions and the bridge fills with chatter, mostly reports from the gunners and the crew watching the sensors. Sam feels a wave of pride and lets herself bask in it for a moment before she yells:

“How many targets have been destroyed?”

A reply is quickly shouted back:

“Their engines are inoperable. We’ve reduced their working weapons to fifty percent.”

Sam pulls up a hologram to check the status of the plasma beams and accompanying railguns. Multiple railguns have overheated and are being repaired as quickly as possible by damage control teams. The plasma weapons are much more reliable and are all operational. Sam flicks the hologram back down and orders:

“Someone get me eyes on their comms! If they can call for help, our team is more likely to be trapped over there.”

A crewmember is frantically checking the sensor data and replies:

“Ma’am, they appear to have moved their communication array. We missed it in our first volley.”

Sam curses mentally; they knew there might be differences between the universes, but she had hoped it wouldn’t affect their success. Before she can call out an order, someone else reports:

“Their weapons are all down for now, we don’t know their repair time so they could come back online at any moment.”

Sam nods and asks:

“Are they releasing darts? We need that bay open or this mission is a failure already.”

A crew member shouts victoriously:

“Incoming darts!”

Sam doesn’t wait to order into her comm:

“Sheppard, you have a go.”

There’s a quick affirmative and then silence. With the cloak engaged, the Daedalus can’t see the puddle jumper any better than the wraith can. They have to wait for Sheppard to confirm they’ve made it into the dart bay. In the meantime, the gunners are busy picking off the darts that are swarming the Daedalus. Evidently, despite this hive being used for scientific research, it still has a full complement of darts and mounted weapons. Sam would guess the hive retained it’s weapons to fight off other hive ships should their research be discovered. A human ship with upgraded asgard weapons and shields is not who they were expecting. Many of the darts fall to the railguns and plasma beams, but their tactical advantage has always been their overwhelmingly superior numbers. There is simply no way for the gunners to destroy all of them. The Daedalus is quickly overrun, and the darts begin hammering away at the shields with as much firepower as they can muster, which is admittedly not much.

Still, Sam doesn't like having her ship under fire, even if the shields are holding. She finds herself gritting her teeth with tension and forces herself to relax. Sheppard will call when he can, and her stress will do nothing to help the attack team. In fact, it could even be damaging to the ship’s morale. She needs to remain calm and controlled, to prevent anyone from getting the sense that she doesn’t believe in her crew’s ability to weather this storm. So she loosens her jaw and asks:

“Any luck hitting their comms?”

The crewmember looks grim as they report:

“We did succeed in destroying their comms center, but not before they got a short message off.”

Sam feels herself tense up again. Even with asgard weapons far superior to wraith technology, fighting two or more hives is not an attractive prospect. They got the jump on the research hive, which gave them a large advantage. They won’t be that lucky if more hives come to the researcher’s rescue. She says calmly:

“Any idea where they aimed their communication?”

The crew member pulls up something on their screen and appear to do quick calculation in their head before they reply:

“It appears to be aimed at a system three jumps away. The alternate Sheppard reports that there are three hive ships stationed there, and that with their current engines, it will take them about forty five minutes to get here.”

Sam carefully controls herself and doesn’t sigh out loud; it could be better, but it could also be worse. She nods at the crewmember and clicks on her comm to call Sheppard:

“Sheppard, the hive got a message off. We’ve got a time limit starting now; forty five minutes. Get it done quickly, even if that means destroying the drive.”

Sheppard’s voice comes back, with a hint of strain, as if he’s focusing hard on maneuvering the puddle jumper.

“Copy. We’ll be in and out. We’re entering the dart bay now.”

He lapses back into silence and Sam takes the opportunity to set a timer on the control hologram: forty minutes begin to tick down. There a crackle of static and then John speaks up again:

“We've landed the puddle jumper safely, no sign they’re detected us. We’re headed for the drive.”

Sam doesn't show any relief; it’s too early in the mission to get comfortable. But getting into the dart bay was the first of the largest hurdles. She looks out at the fireworks of the darts firing against the Daedalus’s shields and say quietly:

“Good luck.”

\---------------------

They’ve landed the puddle jumper in the very back of the dart bay, in the shadow of the wall. They lower the cloak and the ramp long enough for John and Ronon to leave the ship. John nods at Teyla, standing guard at the door of the puddle jumper, and she tells Rodney to raise the cloak. The puddle jumper disappears from view. John has to take a good look at their surroundings, trying to memorize their starting position. Not being able to remember where the ship is would be like the most hellish version of losing your car in a parking lot. Especially if they’re being pursued by wraith on the way back.

John looks at Ronon, both of them holding their guns ready, and whispers:

“You ready?”

Ronon grins, viciously joyful, and whispers back:

“Always.”

They stay pressed against the disgustingly fleshy wall, trying to stay under the wraith’s radar, but the dart bay is practically empty. All the drones are out in their darts, and the rest of the wraith are probably working on repairing their damaged weapons. It’s good luck, which John hopes bodes well for the rest of the mission. Of course, getting in is the easier part; it’s getting out that’s going to be a struggle. Knowing how these missions usually go, their luck will hold out until the exact moment when it would be most inconvenient for their luck to fail. John shakes off the thoughts and focuses on finding the hallway out of the dart bay. This hive ship is constructed the same as the hive ships in their universe, at least as far as they know. The alternate John wasn’t able to find exactly where the drive is placed in the ship, but the alternate Rodney had made an educated guess where a research project would be most likely to be placed, and their Rodney had agreed. 

It’s a lot of maybes for such an important mission, so John is feeling a little nervous. He looks over at Ronon, who doesn’t let any nervousness show. He is all business, scanning the hallway they enter with gleaming eyes. John draws strength from knowing Ronon is at his side; beyond Teyla, there is not a better warrior to work with. Ronon will never falter, never doubt, at least not while fighting wraith. They are cockroaches to him, and he’s appointed himself their exterminator. John doesn’t feel any need to have mercy on them either; they may be sentient beings, but they also eat innocent humans at any opportunity. Some, like Todd, he can be convinced to not kill on sight, but most wraith will never see humans as anything but cattle. John doesn’t apologize to a hamburger before he eats it; so he doesn’t expect anything of the sort from the wraith.

They are passing through the typical wraith architecture: large membranes that almost seem to pulse, veins run through like purple wiring, and the floor slightly squishy under their feet. Fortunately, they haven’t come across any people in cocoons. They don’t have time to rescue anyone, but if they spotted humans and had to leave them behind, John would feel guilty. If they don’t see any, he can at least pretend there wasn't anyone to save. Ronon would probably stop long enough to put a bullet in anyone they came across, and John wouldn’t really be able to stop him. They both would prefer a quick death to the fate waiting for most of those people. Ronon can never forget the wraith’s cruelty, any more than he can make the jagged scars on his back disappear. John has also had practice with mercy killings; he still has nightmares about Colonel Sumner. That does not mean that he regrets doing it; he mostly regrets them both being in that situation. The whole universe would have been better off if they hadn’t woken the wraith, but what’s done is done, no undoing it now.

John forces himself to focus on the now; after all, they are yet again trying to save the universe. You would think maybe the wraith would leave the universe destroying business alone once in a while, but no such luck. John and Ronon are quickly making their way along the path Rodney had carefully planned for them: it avoids any critical architecture, such as weapons, so they are less likely to run into any wraith. So far it seems to be working. 

Just then, as if John had jinxed it, a wraith drone comes around the corner. Ronon is already firing before the drone can even process what it’s seeing and it collapses to the floor, a disgustingly large hole blown in it’s forehead. John nods at Ronon in thanks; they have to take any wraith they see down before they can alert anyone else. Thankfully both John and Ronon have quick trigger fingers. They step over the dead drone and continue on their way. John has been counting the turns in his head and they're just a few steps away from the lab. The hallway opens into a large open space as they turn the corner, and they both spot the pair of wraith at the same time. Ronon gets the one on the right at the same time as John kills the one on the left. The bodies keel over in perfect unison, a wraith equivalent of a laptop clattering out of a dead hand and onto the floor. These wraith are not drones: they’re unmasked, and have small tattoos on their faces, which likely means they’re smart enough to be scientists as well as soldiers. No doubt they were working on the drive, perhaps hoping to get it working so they could use it to escape the Daedalus’s attack.

Ronon and John don’t have any trouble finding the drive; it’s hard not to notice the glowing piece of machinery plugged into the wall. It’s a lot less fleshy than typical wraith technology, which could be a sign that they didn’t create it themselves. They may have found some alien tech abandoned on a planet and decided to convert it to something they could use. Whatever the reason, it’s a good thing, as wraith tech would be very difficult to integrate into the Daedalus’s systems. Ronon steps over to the computer banks that seem to control it, pulling the piece of hardware Rodney had given them out of one of his coat’s deep pockets. He hands it to John and then walks over to guard the doorway. 

Rodney had programmed the block of hardware with a virus that will infect the wraith computers. Then it will copy all of the research data, release the drive so it can be moved, and wipe all the computers once the drive is safely removed. Rodney had been very proud of himself. The virus was complex in that it had to do many things, but also in that wraith technology is still not well understood and it was hard to convince the wraith computers to accept the foreign terran hardware. John hadn’t asked how likely the virus was to fail; he trusted Rodney wasn’t going to send them on a game of hide and seek in a wraith hive ship if he wasn’t sure about this tech working. Rodney has also shown them where to plug the block in and how to remove the drive. Still, John is overwhelmed as he looks at the numerous ports on the wraith computer banks.

John throws Ronon a look and says:

“Does any of this look right to you?”

Ronon doesn’t budge from his guard duty as he replies:

“My eyes glaze over when Rodney talks. I’d find a hole that looks like the end of the wire and just try shoving it in.”

John grumbles:

“Isn’t machinery like this delicate or something?”

Ronon shrugs:

“Only one way to find out.”

John groans and starts running his fingers over the front of the nearest computer bank. The ports are hard to see amongst the mottled purples and pinks of the membranes around them. He holds up the wire connected to the block in one hand, staring at it like it’ll unlock a secret, as he searches with his other hand. Most of the ports are too large or too small. The wire ends in a trapezoid which is pretty distinctive. John crouches to look at the ports close to the floor before hopping to the left to look at the next bank of computers.

Ronon hisses from his post at the door:

“We can’t stay here forever, any luck?”

John curses under his breath and says:

“I’m moving as fast as I can. Why do they even need this many holes in their computers?”

Ronon jokes:

“I’m sure they designed it specifically to mess with you. ”

John takes a second to glare at him and reply:

“You’re not helping.”

Then as he turns back to look, he spots it. It’s close to the end of the row, at the very top. John jumps up and takes a closer look just to make sure. It looks like it’s right, but he’s never looked at the ports of a wraith computer before. So he gently tries to push the end of the wire into the port. It fits in perfectly and then the screens begin to flash, changing from the green rows of wraith text to running numbers. The computers seem to struggle for a moment before the screens go black. Then, with a pleasant little chirp, a chip slides out of one of the computers, waiting for someone to take it. John stares for a moment before remembering Rodney showing them something similar, but not quite the same. Possibly these wraith used a larger data chip than ones Rodney had access to, but whatever the reason for the difference, John knows enough to take it. 

Once he’s removed it, the computers flash for a moment before there’s a loud thunk. The drive separates from the tubes connected to it and it’s lights go out. It looks like it’s ready to be removed. John has taken one step towards it as he hears Ronon’s gun fire. He stops and raises his gun, aiming at the hallway and yells:

“You got it, Ronon?”

Ronon continues to fire, the sound of the gun joined by the thudding of armored bodies hitting the floor. He doesn’t look back at John as he shouts:

“Get the drive! I think they know where we are!”

John doesn’t hesitate, he grabs the drive with a strong yank, sending the tubes flying and dribbling fluid across the floor. The computers crackle with static before dying, no doubt wiped by the virus as soon as the drive was removed. He tucks the drive under his arm---it’s about as big as a basketball---feeling like he’s back at his highschool attempt to play football. The wraith are about as ugly as the high school jocks were back then. John runs up behind Ronon, seeing that he’s cleared the hallway for the moment, and looks to Ronon. Ronon spots the drive and nods before taking off down the hallway. John is familiar with Ronon on the run; they work out together so often that John knows exactly how much longer Ronon’s stride is and how much faster he has to run to keep up. There are more and more wraith coming for them, popping out of adjoining hallways like actors at a haunted house. Ronon takes most of them out, leaving a few for John to mop up. But they’re getting more and more numerous, to the point where John knows they’ll be overrun before they reach the dart bay and the waiting puddle jumper.

He puts on a burst of speed to catch up to Ronon and taps him on the arm as he yells over the firing of their guns:

“Take the drive! Get back to the ship, I’ll draw them off and meet you there.”

Ronon grabs the offered drive, but looks at John for a long moment. John can see the truth there: that this is likely to be the last time he sees Ronon. He can’t fight his way through the army of wraith coming their way, but he can distract them long enough for Ronon to get to safety. But Ronon, so loving and loyal, doesn’t want to leave him. John knows exactly what to say; the only thing that would convince Ronon:

“For Teyla, for Rodney. For Torren.”

Something changes in Ronon’s eyes and he whispers:

“Don’t die. I’d miss you.”

John grins and says:

“Get going.”

Ronon doesn’t hesitate as he turns and runs, the drive mostly hidden under his coat. John doesn’t hesitate either; he takes off down the opposite hallway. The wraith are on him almost immediately: drones with their stun guns, slow to respond and not that difficult to kill. John doesn’t waste bullets: he counts, two in the head or six in the chest, dead, dead, dead. There don’t seem to be any of the more intelligent wraith, which likely means that they have something more important to be doing than hunting down the intruders. If John had to guess, he would say they’re struggling to keep the hive’s shields from buckling. If those shields go down, then it doesn’t matter if they have the drive or not, the whole hive will go up in flames.

It’s not a comforting thought, that. Though John would choose the hive exploding over being fed on, both for an ease of death and also because he’d take the bastards down with him. He really needs to stop thinking such things; as he runs into a three way joint in the hallway, he sees a wraith looking the other way. The long white hair and lack of mask mean this is not just another drone. John has raised his gun and is about to shoot when the wraith turns to face him. As soon as he sees the starburst of a tattoo around the eye, his guns falls. 

John curses:

“Shit, you scared me, Todd!”

Todd tilts his head, a curious but also threatening motion, like a bird watching a worm. There’s that gleam of intelligence in his slit eyes, but he’s also cold, not even a hint of the humor that John has come to expect. John mutters:

“Oh. yeah.”  
********************  
John has realized his mistake and is raising the gun, but he’d waited a moment too long. Todd flows forwards with all the predatory grace and strength of the wraith’s alien bodies. A bullet or two bury themselves in his chest, but that’s nowhere near enough. Todd knocks the gun out of John’s hand, clattering across the floor and out of reach. John lashes out with a fist, fighting for his life, but Todd blocks and hits John across the nose. For the second time in the last two weeks, John feels blood begin to flow down his face. Before he can even attempt to retaliate, Todd wraps a hand around his throat and lifts him off his feet, pinned against the wall. John wiggles like a butterfly pinned in a collection, clawing at the hand that’s tightening around his vulnerable throat.

John draws blood with his fingernails, but watches helplessly as they heal up a moment later. The two bullets clatter to the floor as Todd’s body heals and spits them out. Todd grins, a thoroughly unpleasant expression that bares his fangs. John begins to choke, struggling to get air past the fingers clamped around his neck. He kicks out weakly, quickly losing the ability to fight back as his brain becomes starved of oxygen. His vision tunnels, graying out around the edges, until all he can see are Todd’s yellow eyes, glowing with a vicious glee.

John manages to wheeze: 

“I know you won’t believe this, but where I’m from, we’re friends.” 

Todd looks John’s face over, seemingly recognizing him, which suggests that he may have met the alternate Sheppard and thinks that’s who is trying to steal his drive. John thinks rather loopily that it makes sense Todd would be the one running the research on the drive, he’s always been too smart and too ambitious for the human’s liking. Todd finishes inspecting John and sneers:

“John Sheppard. I never expected to see you again. You must have lost your mind, living in hiding, like rats in a sewer. You are the last of the earth peoples; I will enjoy tasting your defiance. It is so much sweeter than the broken wills of the Pegasus peoples. You are a dying breed, a rare treat I will have all to myself.” 

Todd raises his hand not holding John, the feeding mouth opening and closing in anticipation. John can barely see, but he makes the effort to say:

“Even in an alternate universe, you’re still one ugly motherfucker.”

Todd laughs, unconcerned with the insult, and presses his hand to John’s chest. John thrashes harder as he feels the bite of the feeding mouth chewing through the fabric of his uniform and reaching his skin. Todd has just drawn blood when his smug smile drops. He pulls the feeding hand back and loosens the hand around John’s throat. John gasps, gulping down the air returning to his lungs, and is able to focus enough to hear the alternate Todd say:

“You taste strange...unfamiliar. What have you done?”

John struggles to shrug and is trying to think up a snarky reply as a sound draws both his and Todd’s attention. It’s the familiar whine of Ronon’s gun and he comes around the corner, his weapon charged and ready. His aim is unerring as he steps forwards and presses the gun to Todd’s temple. Once he’s made sure the threat is clear, he grins at Todd and says conversationally:

“He distracted you, which is what really matters. Drop him.”

Todd abruptly lets go of John and he falls to the floor, coughing and hacking as he struggles to breath fully again. 

***********************

Ronon doesn’t look away from the gun held on Todd but he asks:

“You okay?”

John rasps:

“Just dandy.”

As John makes the effort to rise from his crouch and face the enemy, Todd looks Ronon over, his eyes gleaming with that intelligence that makes him so dangerous. You give a wraith a body that can heal like crazy, weapons that can stun, and add in a big brain? That’s not good for any humans. Even the Todd in their universe has a habit of being an enemy at times. This Todd has even less reason to work with them. Having thoroughly scanned Ronon, Todd snarls at the Satedan:

“I don’t recognize this one.”

Ronon grunts at that and says: 

“Well, I recognize your ugly mug.”

John, despite the feeding marks on his chest and the bruises around his neck, decides to try and convince this Todd that the drive is dangerous. He’s hoping that maybe in some ways this Todd is the same as their Todd. He says:

“Listen, you may not believe me, but I’m not the John you know. I came from an alternate universe, through a hole made by the drive you’re developing. The drive is going to destroy your universe if you use it, killing both humans and wraith. I know you, you’re a scientist. Is being able to travel a bit faster worth ripping holes in the fabric of space-time?”

Todd’s expression becomes less starving lion having a steak waved in front of his face and something a little more curious. He almost seems to be doing calculations in his head, checking whether what John is saying makes sense. But then he speaks, and his voice is twisted in a hateful snarl:

“You do not know me. I would never trust an inferior human such as you!”

Todd lunges for John, his eyes wild and his hand, already reddened by John’s blood, reaching for John’s undefended chest. Ronon doesn’t hesitate; he pulls the trigger and Todd’s attack is abruptly stopped. If the shot had been from a human weapon, Todd might have been able to heal. Instead a large hole opens in his skull and he collapses to the floor, lifeless. In the end, his hatred and his lack of knowledge about Ronon killed him. Ronon lowers the gun and looks at John, saying:

“Well, he’s less friendly and a lot less smart than the Todd we know.”

John nods, and although he doesn’t feel any grief over this Todd’s death, he sighs:

“That’s a shame. Would have been a lot easier to get back home if he had worked with us.”

Ronon looks down at the body, not a hint of regret in his eyes. He says:

“That’s what Rodney and Sam are for. He got what was coming to him.”

John grins at him: his throat and chest ache, but it’s almost worth it to see Ronon go into protective mode. He always gets this way when John has been injured or tortured. John appreciates it: it’s one of the ways Ronon expresses his love. That and it never hurts to have the satedan equivalent of the terminator set loose on your enemies. John walks over to where his gun had slid into a nearby wall and picks it up. Then he nods at Ronon, and they both start walking down the hallways, headed back to the puddle jumper. As they walk, John looks over at Ronon and jokes:

“You were supposed to leave me. I could have you court martialed for disobeying orders, you know.”

Ronon grins, not looking at John as he scans the hallway in front of them for wraith, but obviously amused nonetheless. He says:

“Sure you could.”

John laughs; they both know he’s not going to do anything about Ronon disobeying orders. John does the same thing so often he’s practically telling his team they can get away with it. Still, as they make their way through the hallways, occasionally killing wraith, John asks:

“Did you get the drive to the puddle jumper?”

Ronon yells over the sound of their guns firing:

“Dropped it right into Teyla’s hands and then came back for you.”

John grins and jokes:

“Well, at least you had your priorities in order.”

Ronon laughs and replies:

“Sorry to break it to you, but you’re not more important than saving the universe.”

John laughs and shoots another drone. As it falls, the dart bay comes into sight. Despite the hideous wraith architecture, it looks beautiful, as it promises freedom. They both sprint for the back wall and as they get close, the puddle jumper decloaks. Teyla steps out on the ramp and starts firing on the pursuing wraith. Ronon and John let her cover them and put all their effort into running. A stun bolt just barely misses John’s thigh, but then he’s running up the ramp and into the safety of the puddle jumper.

Rodney guns the engines before the ramp is even closed, almost knocking the three in the back off their feet. They all grab from the walls and manage not to lose their balance. The ramp thunks closed and the cloak goes back up. John drops his gun and runs for the pilot’s seat, which Rodney gladly gives up. Rodney’s piloting is mediocre, and he would have a hard time completing the maneuvers needed to get out of the dart bay. They burn hard for the patch of stars they can see through the entrance of the bay. The wraith don’t seem to have any weapons able to fire at them, and they can’t see through the cloak, but John is still getting out of the hive as quickly as humanly possible.

They shoot out of the hive and into the emptiness of space and Ronon and Rodney cheer. John throws the puddle jumper into a twisted course, trying to avoid hitting any of the darts whizzing around the Daedalus. He clicks on his comms and reports to Sam, informing her of the drive’s successful capture and asking for the Daedalus’s bay to be opened. Sam quickly confirms and John steers the puddle jumper into safety. A moment later the Daedalus lurches as it jumps away from the hive. Sheppard’s team disembarks and are greeted by the crew of the bay, who must have been informed of the mission success, as they are cheering and applauding.

Rodeny ignores the well wishers and takes off for his lab, carrying the drive carefully and already muttering ideas to himself. John is hoping to take a moment to bask in the crowd but as soon as he’s out of the puddle jumper, Teyla and Ronon step up to his side and each grab one of his arms. He gives them a betrayed look and they both chorus:

“Infirmary.”

John groans and gives in, letting them walk him down to medical attention. There will be time to be celebrated as a hero later. Right now, he wants some pain meds and confirmation that nothing in his throat has been damaged.

\------------

John saunters down the hallway, gnawing on a ration bar he’d convinced one of the cooks to give him. Ration bars are not luxurious by any means, but he’s actually come to like their flavour. They’re also easy to transport and as such are one of his favorite snack foods. As he walks through the hall he nods to the crew members he passes and they smile back. The morale of the Daedalus has greatly improved since they captured the drive and it’s easy to feel the change in the crew. John much prefers the relaxed happiness of a crew that believes they’ll get home to the tense anxiety from before the successful mission.

He’s meandering down the hallway, seemingly aimless, but he is heading for a certain room. Sam and Rodeny have been holded up in the computer lab working on the drive for days. John has gotten into the habit of bringing them food and reminding them to eat, which is not typical of Rodney, who will almost always make time for meals. But the drive is evidently some really amazing technology and every scientist on the Daedalus is drooling over it.

Today however, John has skipped grabbing portions for them because when he called down to see what vegetable they wanted, he’d been told Teyla and Ronon had already brought them lunch. He had pouted, even though they obviously couldn’t see him, and joked that they were taking his job away from him. They had laughed and Teyla had said he was welcome to join them in the computer lab. So, after finishing his lunch, John is making his way down to the lab.

John finds the correct doorway, which is doorless, so he can see into the room before he even enters. As expected, Sam and Rodeny are in the same spots as usual. The drive is placed on a table in between the curved computer banks that make a circle in the center of the room. The drive is not plugged in yet, as the scientists want to make a thorough study of the new technology before introducing it into the Daedalus’s systems. Moving too quickly and plugging it in right away could very well fry either the drive or the Daedalus’s computers. This technology is far too vital to be risking it like that.

So Sam and Rodney are both sitting at their laptops, clicking away at stuff that goes right over John’s head. He’s good at math, but this is much more than math: it’s computer coding and engineering and possibly even biology, once the wraith had changed it to suit their living bio tech. John enters the room and sees that Teyla and Ronon are sitting on the far side of the room, talking quietly as they watch Sam and Rodney work. The scientists don’t even look up as John enters, but Ronon and Teyla break off their conversation to smile at him. John cuts through the middle of the computer banks, running a hand over Rodney’s back just to say hello, before joining Ronon and Teyla in sitting against the wall.

They’ve even had the foresight to bring pillows from their room to the lab, which they’ve put down on the floor and sat on top of. Teyla shifts over to make room for John between her and Ronon. She knows John likes to be in the middle, where he can reach both of them. He takes the seat, smiling back at them and saying:

“Hey there.”

Teyla says hello back, while Ronon instantly hones in on the couple bites of ration bar left in John’s hand, and leans over to take a large bite. John almost doesn’t notice, focused on Teyla, but he sees the movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns to face Ronon and pulls the bar out of his reach, and saying:

“Get your own ration bar!”

Ronon grins wickedly and says:

“It tastes better this way.”

John huffs and settles down on the pillow, taking the last couple bites to finish off the bar before Ronon can make another try at it. He shoves the now empty wrapper into one of the pockets of his uniform and looks over at Rodney as he asks:

“How long have they been at it?”

Teyla looks amused as she says:

“Sam has begun enforcing a new rule that after two all nighters, they must sleep on the third night.”

Ronon smirks as he adds:

“And if Rodney doesn’t follow the rule, Sam is not opposed to calling security to drag him out of the lab.”

Rodney finally looks up from his work to glare at his team, who are now giggling at the image of Rodney struggling against a couple soldiers, desperately reaching out for his laptop that is being forcibly taken from him. Rodney snaps:

“I think that’s enough commentary from the peanut gallery. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

John replies:

“We write time into our busy schedules to make fun of you.”

Rodney huffs and picks up a pen, throwing it at John, who leans to the side to avoid the projectile. The pen clatters against the wall behind him, missing its target completely. Before John can snark in reply, Sam spins her chair around and says:

“Now, now children. Play nice.”

John grins at Sam; she’s always had a good sense of humor, and unlike some commanders he’s had, she isn’t fazed by his team’s somewhat unprofessional behavior. No doubt she had gotten used to it with her own team, and saw no need to punish them for it. John turns his attention back to the drive before asking:

“Are you guys making any progress?”

Rodney grumbles under his breath:

“Not as much as I could be if I wasn’t being distracted.”

Sam grins at Rodney’s annoyance, which is mostly a front; he doesn’t mind his team’s presence, but he also feels the need to keep up the prickly attitude he’s known for. Sam is much more willing to publicly explain things to people who aren’t fluent in technobabble. She explains:

“We’re getting close to understanding how the drive works, it’s almost completely alien in it’s coding language, but the wraith had successfully translated almost all of it’s functions by the time we took it. We can use our copies of their research data as a sort of rosetta stone. Once we’ve figured out it’s functions, we should be able to get it ready to interface with our computers. And from there it should be just a simple matter of turning it on!”

John is relieved that they’re making progress. He says:

“Thanks for filling me in, Sam. I knew it wouldn’t take you two long to figure it out!”

Sam takes the compliment graciously and nods to John before going back to clicking away at her computer. John takes the opportunity to settle deeper into the pillow and wrap an arm around both Ronon and Teyla. They both cuddle closer against his sides and Teyla rests her head on his shoulder. Ronon moves his arm to take John’s hand and interlaces their fingers gently. They are perfectly comfortable, though without Rodney, they aren’t fully complete. John is considering bothering Rodney into coming over to say hi to them more completely when Sam speaks up again. She turns to look at John as she speaks, her sharp eyes dancing with humor:

“John, I think I need to start specifying I expect you to come back from missions. You’ll turn anything into a sucide mission if I let you.”

John gasps and presses an over dramatic hand to his chest, looking mock affronted.

“I must protest! I only turn missions into suicide missions when absolutely necessary!”

Teyla, Ronon, Rodney and Sam all make the same doubtful face. John looks between Teyla, Ronon and Rodney, acting as betrayed as possible:

“My own team! Traitors!”

Ronon leans over to bonk his head against John’s in an affectionate touch that’s not quite the Athosian greeting, but perhaps an off brand version. He grins as he says:

“As long as someone’s there to save you from your attempts at suicide, it’s actually somewhat charming.”

Teyla adds on:

“I have never met someone so willing to die for the love of others. It is a worthy cause.”

Rodney looks up and grouches:

“Well, it gives me a heart attack everytime. So I vote we make him stop doing that.”

John laughs and asks:

“Is this team a democracy now? I thought I outranked you all.”

Ronon wraps an arm around John’s neck and pulls him close to ruffle his hair as if he were a small child and says:

“Only technically. We let you think you’re in charge because it makes you feel important.”

John flails, halfheartedly trying to escape Ronon’s hold, but careful not to hit Teyla with his flailing hands. He replies:

“Well that’s nice of you, I appreciate it!”

Their spat is interrupted by Rodney suddenly pushing away from his laptop, spinning his office chair around to face Sam as he cries out victoriously:

“I broke into the last file!”

Sam stands suddenly and steps over to look at his computer screen before patting him on the back.

“Good work, Rodney!”

Ronon lets go of John and they both turn to look at the scientists as Teyla asks:

“Have you made a breakthrough?”

Rodney grins, his bad mood lost, and says proudly:

“Yes, we should be able to safely connect the drive now.”

He stands and rushes over to the drive, looking over the many cords extruding from it, and grabs one before turning back to Sam to say:

“Are you ready to try this?”

Sam hits some buttons on the computer bank before looking back at Rodney, nodding, and saying:

“Go for it.”

Rodney plugs the drive in. The drive lets out a happy hum before there is a loud crackle, the flash of a spray of sparks, and Rodney falling backwards, yelping in distress. Everyone jumps to their feet, Sam catching Rodney as he stumbles backwards and the other three running to his side. He hisses in pain, looking at the scorch marks across his palms, before shaking himself and yelling:

“Don’t worry about me, is the drive okay?”

Sam pushes Rodney into Ronon’s waiting arms and runs to the drive, looking it over worriedly. Teyla begins inspecting the burns as Ronon helps Rodney sit in his chair and John rubs a hand over his upper arm in an attempt at comfort. Sam pokes at the drive for a moment longer before telling Rodney:

“I think you came out the loser in this fight, Rodeny. The drive is fine, and it appears to have interfaced with the Dadealus’s computers perfectly.”

Rodney huffs and looks down at his palms, sighing:

“I guess this was just its way of saying hello then.”

Sam steps up besides Teyla, who is turning Rodney’s hands this way and that, examining the burns carefully. Teyla looks back up at Sam and reports:

“They only appear to be second degree. Nonetheless, he should be treated.”

Sam nods and orders:

“John, Teyla, Ronon, escort Rodney to the infirmary. I’ll stay here and work on the drive. And Rodney, I don’t want to see you back in here for the next two days, understand?”

Rodney gapes and whines:

“And let you have all the fun? I’ll miss out on the entire set up!”

Sam gives him a glare and commands:

“I’ll fill you in on everything you missed later. You need to rest and heal and that’s an order.”

Rodney opens his mouth to continue arguing but Sam is wearing her “I’m-your-commander-so-do-it-or-else” look. He knows he can’t win, so he begins trudging out of the lab, surrounded by his concerned team. Teyla is still holding his hands, trying to keep him from touching anything with them and dirtying the wounds. Ronon is offering to carry him if needed, to which Rodney complains he’s not a child. John is shooing them all forwards as Ronon and Rodney begin arguing loudly. As John leaves the lab he looks back at Sam one last time, waving and saying:

“Good luck.”

Sam laughs and says:

“You too!”

John follows his bickering team down the hallway. He never feels more at home than when he has Teyla, Rodney, and Ronon at his side.

\------------------

John is jogging down the hallway, looking forwards, back, forwards, and back again. He looks forwards to make sure he’s not about to run into some unsuspecting crewmember, and he looks back to yell at Rodney:

“Come on Rodney, we’re already late!”

Rodney’s voice comes from down the hall, but the man himself is no longer in sight. He whines:

“Sam’s going to kill me, this is the third time I’ve been late to one of her meetings.”

John rolls his eyes and yells:

“Then start running, Rodney!”

Rodney yells back:

“No, John, that’s a terrible idea. You’re going to run into someone!”

Just as John looks back to say he’s not going to, his world suddenly gets knocked off its axis. He falls back and lands hard on his ass, groaning and trying to shake his head clear. As his vision returns he sees a woman across from him, also on the ground and shaking herself. He has one moment to realize that Rodney was right and that he’s never going to hear the end of before Rodney rounds the corner and sees them. His face goes from “worried-about-being-late-again” to “kid-who-just-entered-a-candy-store” and he opens his mouth to gloat. John gives him a death glare and points a finger at him as he snarls:

“Shut your mouth.”

Then he turns back to the woman he’s run into and gives her a sheepish smile as he offers her a hand up. She shakes her head once more before smiling back and taking his hand. Rodney continues to laugh at John in the background, but he ignores the sound to say:

“I’m so sorry, I should have been more careful.”

The woman throws a glance at Rodney, but also mostly ignores him to respond to John:

“It’s alright. You got lucky, for once I wasn’t carrying my very breakable laptop.”

John imagines that mess and no doubt makes a face. Rodney, having laughed himself out, pokes John in the side, making him jump. Then he says:

“John, we’re still late.”

John rushes one last apology:

“Sorry again, have a good rest of your day!”

Then he begins to speedwalk away with Rodney, waving at the woman as she waves goodbye. Then he turns back to Rodney and mutters:

“How much do you want to bet Teyla and Ronon are already there?”

Rodney grumbles in agreement:

“I think they’ve started showing up early just to make us look bad by comparison.”

John grins at Rodney and jokes:

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s all their fault.”

Rodney huffs and admits:

“Alright, yes it’s completely our fault and we really need to work on this.”

John agrees:

“I’ll work on it if you will.”

Before Rodney can respond they cross the threshold onto the bridge, where Sam is sitting in her command chair, Teyla and Ronon waiting on either side of her. When John and Rodney enter, Ronon begins to smile a giant, shit-eating grin, well aware they’re going to get a talking to. Teyla is less obvious, but there is a glint of humor in her dark eyes as she watches the two men wait for Sam’s righteous reprimand.

Sam sighs as she looks at John and Rodney. Then she speaks, her voice even and not particularly angry as she says:

“I know that you two are not late out of disrespect, because I’ve earned your respect, and I respect you in turn. So I’m honestly not that upset, but it is annoying that everyone on this bridge has been forced to wait for you to arrive in order to get down to business. So I’m going to let it go this time, but if it happens again, I may consider throwing you in the brig for a day, see how you like staring at four blank walls with nothing to do. Understood?”

John and Rodney both nod gratefully; Sam’s rage is rare, but when she’s really angry she is terrifying.

Having told John and Rodney off, Sam turns to the helmsman and orders:

“Open the channel, will you, Smith?”

The hologram springs to life before displaying an image of their alternate selves’s rock hewn room. The alternate John is sitting in front and he grins at them as he says:

“You’re a little late.”

Sam not so subtly looks at the culprits standing in front of her and the alternate John laughs. Elizabeth says from behind him:

“Our John and Rodney haven’t kicked that bad habit yet either.”

They all laugh for a moment before the alternate John says:

“I assume your experiments with the drive all went according to plan and as expected, you’re calling to say goodbye.”

Sam nods, her expression a mixture of happiness and sadness.

“Yes, we’re ready to activate the drive and return to our universe.”

The alternate John looks equally sad as he says:

“Well, we thank you for saving our universe as well as yours, and we wish you a safe trip home.”

Sam grins and says:

“We thank you for the intel and for your hospitality.”

Both the alternate John and their John laugh that, remembering their violent first meeting. Then the alternate John steps back and lets Ford and Elizabeth step forwards. Elizabeth begins to speak:

“We wanted to say, as versions of your lost friends, that we know they loved you very much, and that they still do.”

Ford nods his agreement with what Elizabeth said and smiles his bright smile.

Sam smiles sadly and says:

“Thank you. We wish you luck as well, please stay safe.”

Ford waves and says:

“We will, don’t worry.”

Sam nods to Smith and the transmission cuts out. John sighs, already missing Ford and Elizabeth’s faces. But he is ready to go home, even if it’s to a universe without them. He still has so many important people in his life, and he misses Torren as if he were a vital organ. So he looks at Sam, who looks sad but still strong, and nods. She turns to the crewmember behind her with the drive controls, looking for confirmation that they are ready, and once she has it she orders Smith:

“Take us to the nebula with the necessary radiation to cross between universes, Smith.”

Smith has the Daedalus jump a short distance and a green tinged nebula fills their screen. Smith pulls them in closer until the sensors register a high enough amount of radiation that, once the drive activates, a hole should open in space time and allow them to return to their universe. Sam orders, without hesitation:

“Activate the drive.”

Everyone on the bridge tenses, bracing themselves, and there’s a roar as the drive activates. The strange, flickering blue light begins to fill their vision, just like the first time they went through the spatial disturbance caused by the combination of the drive and the radiation. Then the light disappears and the ship lurches as the drive turns off. Sam looks at the new star field on the screen and asks:

“Are those familiar stars?”

A crew member reports:

“This star field is consistent with the expected star pattern in our universe.”

Sam grins and says:

“Good. Try opening a channel to Atlantis.”

Smith opens the channel and a moment later they hear Chuck’s familiar voice:

“Daedalus, is that you?”

Sam quickly replies:

“Yes, this is Sam Carter, commanding the Daedalus.”

Chuck sounds surprised as he says:

“Ma’am, you disappeared for weeks. What happened?”

Sam says cheerily:

“It’s a long story, one I’ll be happy to tell you once we’re home.”

Chuck agrees:

“We’ll see you soon Daedalus.”

Smith cuts the transmission and then the bridge explodes with victorious cheers. The crew begin to hug each other and applaud happily. Sam looks around her crew, relieved to have brought them safely home. John pulls his team into a group hug and meets Teyla’s eyes as he says:

“We’ll see Torren soon.”

Teyla nods, obviously overjoyed, and says:

“I am thankful, I know he has missed us.”

John nods and then they’re pulled into the crowd to celebrate. Even Sam stands up from her command chair and begins shaking hands. The whole ship has been informed and the celebration moves beyond the bridge, until the whole ship is filled with the sounds of joyful people.

\--------------

Sam has just passed the large metal doors that close off Atlantis’s main meeting room when Rodney catches up to her, having run to her side. As soon as he’s close enough, he shouts:

“Sam, you can’t do this!”

Sam doesn’t look at Rodney as she taps at the tablet. She says, completely deadpan:

“I think, considering I’m the commander of Atlantis, that I can indeed do this.”

Rodney groans at that and keeps up with her as she walks into her office, wheedling:

“Come on, Sam, we’ve never seen technology like this before!”

Sam sighs, setting the tablet down on her desk before turning to give Rodney her full attention:

“Look, Rodney. I understand your feelings. And as a scientist, I really do want to learn everything about the drive. But as a commander who’s trying to keep her people safe, I can’t justify keeping such a dangerous piece of technology around. If it ever fell back into wraith hands, you know they wouldn’t hesitate to use it.”

Rodney sputters, trying to find a way to disagree, before he sighs and admits:

“Okay, that’s true.”

Sam puts a gentle hand on his arm but says very clearly, with no room for argument:

“We are destroying the drive.”

Rodney opens his mouth and then closes it just as quickly. He droops, unable to effectively argue his way out of this. Finally he sighs heavily and asks:

“When do you want it done?”

Sam doesn’t have any mercy on him, she says:

“Right away.”

Rodney raises a hand to his forehead in a sad salute as he says:

“Yes ma’am.”

Sam gives him a half-way apologetic smile and says:

“Thank you, Rodney.”

Rodney trudges out her office, heading down to the lab to destroy a very intriguing but also terribly destructive piece of technology. He’s not going to let anyone else do it, if he’s going to have to put the drive down, he’s going to do it himself.

\----------------

John and Ronon had fallen back into their exercise routine as soon as they were back to Atlantis. They’ve finished their run and are now walking to cool down. They don’t speak when they run; they focus solely on their feet hitting the ground and keeping their breathing even. But once they slow to a walk, conversation is fair game. John looks over at Ronon and says casually:

“You know, that was our second alternate universe experience, and both times we haven’t met your alternate self.”

Ronon says completely honestly:

“I’m not at all upset by that.”

John asks with real interest:

“Really? You’re not even a little bit curious what you would be like?”

Ronon shakes his head and says:

“I don’t like feeling like maybe I’m not the real Ronon. Meeting our replicator copies was bad enough, I have no interest in meeting any alternate selves.”

John shrugs and replies without judgement:

“That makes sense, but I’ve enjoyed meeting my alternate selves.”

Ronon smirks and says:

“Even if the most recent one kicked your ass?”

John glares and defends his honor:

“He surprised me, it wasn’t a fair fight.”

Ronon looks doubtful and John continues:

“Anyways, even meeting this alternate self from a universe where he’d lost almost everything, including Atlantis and Earth, I was glad to see that he was still me, you know?”

Ronon looks slightly confused and asks:

“How could he not be? He’s you.”

John sighs and tries to explain:

“I mean that beyond being a carbon copy of my body, that he still had the morals that make me a good person, and that he still had the relationships that really matter to me. He still loved his friends like I do. I always worry that someday I’m going to run into an alternate self who’s just completely irredeemable, like in star trek. I don’t want to look myself in the face and see that I could turn out completely evil, completely lacking everything I hold dear.”

Ronon chuckles and jokes: 

“You’d look pretty bad with the evil beard goatee, too.”

John lunges and punches Ronon in the shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, and says:

“I could rock it, I look good in everything.”

Ronon once again pulls an overdone doubtful expression. John laughs and jokes:

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

Ronon laughs and adds:

“If even Leonard Nimoy couldn’t pull it off, I doubt you could.”

John squawks in offense before Ronon sobers and says seriously:

“Well, to be honest, John, according to Rodney there’s every possible universe out there, including multiple ones where you’re evil. But just because that possibility exists doesn’t mean that you’re anything like them. You’re not hiding some evil side, you are always trying your best. You love your friends and your people, and you’ve fought for them over and over. You are who you choose to be, and you always choose to be good.”

John has stopped walking, and Ronon stops too, looking back at him. John’s eyes are soft and fond. He looks proud as he looks at Ronon. He says softly:

“Thank you Ronon, that helps a lot. Especially after almost turning into that bug creature, I’ve felt like maybe it’s still inside me, waiting to make me do something evil.”

Ronon steps over suddenly and pulls John into a hug. John laughs and hugs Ronon back as tightly as Ronon is holding onto him. John lets his head rest on Ronon’s shoulder for a long moment as they just hold on to each other. Ronon finally pulls away and says quietly:

“I love you, John. And I know that will never happen. You are stronger than anything that would try to make you bad things.”

John grins and takes Ronon’s hand as they once again start walking, saying:

“I love you too, Ronon.”

They walk in silence for a long moment before Ronon says:

“You want some lunch?”

John nods and says:

“I’m starving after that workout!”

They turn and head for the hallway that will take them towards the mess hall. They don’t let go of each other’s hands until they’ve settled at a table and need to use them to hold silverware. Ronon is distracted by eating ravenously. John decides to move from sitting across from Ronon and joins him on the same side of the table. John moves over and presses their sides together before starting to eat. Ronon looks up at the change and smiles widely. They smile at each other for a moment before they begin to eat in earnest. 

\------------------

John has placed his P-90 in the armory, as he doesn’t keep one on his person when off duty. He does have multiple smaller guns placed in the rooms he often inhabits and one pistol he wears all the time, in case he should need to defend himself or others. He’s just finished a late night debriefing with Sam, which was largely uneventful, despite getting attacked by some people on a newly visited planet. The hostiles had been unprepared for John’s team to come through the gate and they only had bladed weapons as well as bows and arrows. Not that John doesn’t think those are dangerous; a bow and arrow can kill a man just as easily as a gun can. However, these people had not had time to place their archers in strategic positions, and as such their arrows were largely useless. It hadn’t taken more than a few warning shots to chase them off long enough for John’s team to escape back through the stargate. Sam had mostly discussed marking the planet as hostile on their database and discouraging future missions from going there unless absolutely necessary. John has agreed and the debriefing proceeded quickly from there.

Technically, every member of his team, including him, has their own room on Atlantis. However, Ronon, Rodney, and John’s rooms have all become mostly storage. Every night, without fail, they end up in Teyla’s room. At first it was because Torren was having nightmares, and while they all knew Teyla could handle it on her own, none of them could stand to leave Torren when he was making puppy eyes at them to stay. Teyla didn’t mind the extra help, and she always preferred sleeping in pile of people, as the Athosians often did. Only having her and Torren in the bed was still alien to her, so Ronon, John and Rodney all migrated into her bed and just...never left. At first they had told themselves it was only for a couple days, and they had even made attempts to leave. They would lie in their large and empty beds for a few minutes before giving up and walking back to Teyla’s room to rejoin the pile. Teyla and Torren always welcomed them with open arms.

At first they had pulled an extra twin bed from a nearby unused bedroom and shoved it up against the twin bed already in the room. It was barely able to hold the four of them and Torren. Someone always ended up hanging over the edge, and as Torren continued to grow, John and Rodney had given in and ordered a king bedframe and mattress. It was tedious getting it through the gate, and everyone involved in moving the king bed knew exactly what was going on. It was not news to them that John’s team were living together, when they all emerged from Teyla’s room in the morning, already dressed and ready to go. The athosians, of course, had no complaints, and the Terrans knew well enough to keep any opinions to themselves. John had to go through Sam to get permission to bring the bed through the gate, but she was quite used to his situation: SGCommand had vicious rumors about SG1 sleeping together in much the same way. Sam hadn’t even blinked at the request and approved it without hesitation.

So the king bed was placed in Teyla’s room and outfitted with soft sheets with dinosaurs on them: Torren loved T rexes more than any other animal, from the pegasus galaxy or from earth. They slept much better not being so squished and Ronon’s poor back thanked them. Teyla, Ronon, and Torren all expressed their thanks verbally as well, though Rodney and John sheepishly insisted that it wasn’t necessary. When thanked, Rodney has said:

“I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

Before flushing as red as a tomato and almost fleeing. Teyla had caught him by the sleeve and looking him in the eye as she said:

“We love you, Rodney.”

Torren had nodded his agreement at her side and Rodney had almost melted on the spot. He was getting better at expressing his feelings, but he was still easily embarrassed. However, he did quietly reciprocate:

“I love you two, also.”

Teyla had smiled and let him go back to his work.

So John is looking forward to crawling into that king bed, which has quickly gathered a huge pile of knitted blankets as winter has come around. Rodney knits in his free time and is amazingly prolific at it. Teyla had begun buying him the most interesting yarn she could, and always in large enough amounts that he could create a blanket, or a multitude of scarves. Rodney always returns the favor by knitting the gifted yarn into a blanket for her and Torren. They don’t have the chance to get cold anymore, their room is filled with knitted blankets and cold weather wear. Rodney will make a scarf for anyone who asks, especially if they provide a yarn they prefer. At this point almost every member of the Atlantis expedition, as well as the Athosian settlement, have a scarf knitted by Rodney. He knitted Sam a neon pink one, which no one expected her to like, but she had loved it and wore it with pride. When John had asked about it she had grinned and said:

“Strong women are still allowed to like pink, you know.”

John has reached the hallway with Teyla’s room at the end and he rolls his shoulders out as he approaches the door, finally letting himself relax and slouch. He waves the door open and enters as quietly as possible. Besides the king bed, there’s a comfy armchair and a desk inside Teyla’s room. John quickly scans the room to figure out who’s sleeping where. Teyla and Torren are on the bed, Teyla curled around her son and his face pressed into her neck. Ronon appears to have fallen asleep in the armchair, a book half open on his lap. Rodney is the only one awake in the room and he sits at the desk, working away. The walls of the room are all decorated: one side has the same decorative textiles as their room on the Daedalus, another has terran movie posters that they’ve watched with Torren plastered across it, the third wall has countless sheets of paper with Torren’s drawings adorning them, and the fourth has a to do white board and a cork board with Rodney’s work strewn across it. 

John steps inside and, as he takes his boots off, looks at the wall with Torren’s drawings. Some are from when he was too young to color inside the lines, while the more recent ones look almost professional. Torren has always loved drawing and they’ve all tried to encourage that habit, buying him art supplies for his birthdays and always making sure there’s a blank sketchbook around. Torren has become very good at it, especially his favorite subject, which is dinosaurs. He also draws people and animals often, and he’s done a family portrait recently, with him, Teyla, John, Ronon, and Rodney. Their faces are recognizable and John was very impressed with it. John had also insisted upon having them sit for an actual family photo. It wasn’t professional, just an expedition member who was a hobbyist photographer who volunteered to help document the expedition. Teyla had insisted upon bartering in return for his services. He had accepted payment in the form of one of Rodney’s scarves and a potted collection of athosian herbal plants. He evidently didn’t just do photography as a hobby, but was also working on becoming a botanist. 

John had carefully framed one of the photos and it sat on the desk Rodney is working at. There are other candid photos of the team lined up along the back of the desk, but the rest of the space is all Rodney’s. His work spaces are always messy and this one is no different; he has papers spread across the desk, as well as multiple tablets and a laptop. John has quietly set his boots on the shoe rack by the door. Rodney no doubt has heard him come in, but hasn’t acknowledged his presence. John isn’t surprised or offended; when Rodney gets working almost nothing can break him out of it. John is not discouraged though: he tip toes over, still trying not to wake any of the three sleeping, and gently places a hand on Rodney’s shoulder. 

Rodney hums, his traditional “I-know-you’re-there-one-moment” noise. John respects that and waits by his side until Rodney pushes the laptop back slightly and turns to face John. They smile at each other in greeting and John whispers:

“Ronon looks completely zonked.”

Rodney grins and replies:

“Poor guy, every time he tries to sit down and read he falls asleep almost instantly.”

John muffles a laugh and asks:

“What’s he reading now?”

Rodney looks amused as he says:

“His usual fare: shitty romance novels. I think this one is about vampires.”

John widens his eyes comically and asks:

“Oh no, it isn’t twilight, is it?”

Rodney chuckles and jokes:

“Even Ronon wouldn’t stoop that low.”

John grins fondly at the sleeping man and asks:

“How many muscles do you think we’d pull trying to move him to the bed?”

Rodney quicky squashes that idea:

“He says sleeping in that chair doesn’t bother him, so I think we can save ourselves the trouble.”

John says questioningly:

“With his back problems I can’t imagine how that chair is comfortable for him.”

Rodney shrugs and tries to stifle a yawn. John changes topics and asks:

“Are you about done working for tonight?”

Rodney nods and closes the lid of the laptop as he says:

“Yeah, I was just waiting for you to get home.”

John grins, half genuinely touched and half teasing as he says:

“That’s sweet, Rodney.”

Rodney stands and waves a haughty hand at John as he jokes:

“Don’t get all soft on me, John.”

John grins and, now that Rodney is standing, reaches out to pull him close and press their foreheads together in a loving gesture. Rodney goes without complaint and he smiles slightly as they stand close together. John pulls away and says:

“I do love you, you know.”

Rodney stretches and cracks his neck before replying genuinely:

“And I love you. Ready for bed?”

John nods and holds a hand out to stop Rodney from moving as he reaches over to the stash of blankets in the corner and grabs one before carefully placing it over Ronon’s sleeping form. Rodney catches on and grabs the book from his lap before John places the blanket. He bookmarks it with a piece of folded paper from the desk and places it on the edge of the desk, in easy reach of Ronon if he should wake up. Then John whispers:

“Alright, now it’s bedtime.”

John and Rodney move over to the bed. Rodney has already changed into his soft pajamas and John prefers to sleep in his clothes: it makes him feel less vulnerable if he should be attacked. John sits on the edge of the bed carefully, trying not to wake Teyla and Torren with the movement. He pulls his socks off and tosses them into the dirty clothes bin by the desk. Rodney doesn’t bother taking his fuzzy socks off and John makes a face at him across the bed as he says:

“I can’t believe you sleep in bed with socks on, it’s disgusting.”

Rodney shrugs and justifies:

“I have bad circulation, my feet get cold.”

John shakes himself as if he were a wet dog as he says:

“But the texture of the socks on the blanket, ugh!”

Rodney ignores his dramatics and says:

“We’ll agree to disagree.”

Teyla and Torren are in the center of the bed, as they usually are. All of the adults arrange themselves in curls around Torren at the center. It makes him feel safer should he wake from a nightmare and it also makes the adults feel like he’s better protected should anything happen. Rodney is taking one side of the bed and John is taking the other. Rodney’s going to curl up behind Teyla’s back and John’s will be facing Torren’s back. They don’t try to lift the sheets that Teyla and Torren are under, knowing that would wake them up, and instead they’ve grabbed a couple of blankets to pull over themselves. John settles in and so does Rodney, covering themselves in the knitted blankets. They are cut off from each other by Teyla and Torren’s bodies, but John reaches a hand up over Teyla’s head and Rodney meets him there with his own hand. They hold hands as they say:

“Good night, Rodney.”

“Sleep well, John.”

The desk light is still on, but Rodney doesn't bother to turn it off on his own any more, he knows John can do what they call his “trick”. John can feel the energy moving through the walls of the room, down the cord and into the bulb. Something about his ATA gene allows him to feel the city around him, and he can even make small things change. Something simple like switching the desk light off without touching it is doable. So he focuses for a moment and thinks of the energy flowing into the light stopping. The light clicks off obediently. Rodney grumbles:

“Show off.”

John grins to himself; Torren loves that magic trick, but Rodey is always annoyed the city doesn’t listen to him like it does to John. There’s no one else in the expedition who has mentioned being able to feel the city like John does, so John had reported it to Sam. The scientists had poked at him for a while before pronouncing that they weren’t sure why, but that he appears to be able to interface with the city at a level no one else has reached. Sam wasn’t too worried about it, so John has just accepted that the city likes him. It’s not particularly useful, nor is it annoying. All that he knows is that this city is home, but that without the people in this room, it wouldn’t be. 

His family are what really matter; he would follow them anywhere, they are what makes a place his home. It helps that Atlantis hums happily when he comes through the gate, but he would leave it without regret if they asked him to. He never expected to find a family in the pegasus galaxy, but he’s grateful beyond words that he did. So he lets his eyes fall shut against the soft darkness of the bedroom and drifts off, warm and safe and full of love.

\------------------

**Author's Note:**

> If you were curious what the alternate john's message was that came through garbled, here's what he was saying:
> 
> (this is john sheppard calling the daedalus. I have your intel. Can you respond?)
> 
> and as a couple notes on characterization:
> 
> John’s canon reaction to teyla’s pregnancy made me want to kick his ass I can’t imagine having the patience to work through that with him, he really does need some therapy! 
> 
> I also find it strange ronon’s parents are never talked about in canon, while his partner was (is that because romantic love is considered more important than platonic? idk) so I decided that it was simply too painful a memory for him to talk about, and that's why he never brings his parents up. You can decide whatever sad, bad thing happened to them, I don't really have anything in mind lol


End file.
